


High Hopes

by WillPJackson



Series: Not Like a Brother [4]
Category: 13 Reasons Why (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blow Jobs, Canon typical depictions of drug use, Canon typical references to drug use, Clustin, Fuzzy legal advice, Fuzzy police proceedings, Hannah Baker (imagined), M/M, Minor Background Relationships, Mutual Masturbation, Not Season 3 Compliant, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post Season 2, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2020-02-15 21:02:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 39,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18677350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WillPJackson/pseuds/WillPJackson
Summary: Justin and Clay have made a commitment to be together. How will they navigate all that stands in their path?





	1. Fear, Uncertainty, and Doubt

**Author's Note:**

> At the rate I'm going, season 3 is going to inevitably drop before this part of the series is finished. Such is life! As with the previous work, all bets are off once season 3 debuts.
> 
> I haven't worked out yet how to divide the chapters, and so there is not a total chapter count yet, but the overall focus of this part of the series is wrapping up the peripheral Tyler drama so that I can really focus on Justin.

Justin and Clay spotted a news van in front of the house upon their return from the park. Clay had abruptly stopped just as they’d rounded the corner, then had held up a hand to keep Justin back. Before Justin could ask what was going on, the van began to drive away.

Justin followed Clay into the house to find the Jensens still in the vestibule. “Was that a news van?” Clay asked.

“It was,” Mrs. Jensen responded. “I asked them to leave.”

“What did they want?” Clay went on.

Mr. Jensen had stepped towards Justin and patted his shoulder. “If I’m not mistaken, I think there’s quite a bit for you to catch up on,” Matt said. “Why don’t you try and get started on it? Clay’ll be up in a little while to help you.”

Mrs. Jensen turned towards Justin as well. “We’re not trying to exclude you, Justin. There are just some things we need to discuss with Clay about—the school.”

“Mom,” Clay cut in, “I already told him.”

“It’s fine,” Justin insisted, looking towards Matt and Lainie, “really. I get it.” He looked back at the boy. “You’re in deep shit, Clay.” He shot the Jensens a quick glance. “Sorry.”

“Well, he’s not far off the mark,” Mr. Jensen agreed.

Justin went upstairs as the Jensens made their way into the living room. He thought it was sweet that Matt and Lainie were still so attentive to his feelings, even with all the shit going down with Clay—their real son. He thought back to the boy’s words from the day before, about how Lainie had started adoption proceedings the day after Justin was arrested, and he finally let himself start to believe it. Maybe they really weren’t trying to get rid of him, after all.

As he stepped into Clay’s room, Justin heard a buzzing from the desk. _Shit._ He hadn’t bothered to look at his phone all day. He walked towards the sound to check his phone and found it to be alight with texts and a few missed calls.

From Jess, early in the morning:

_hey, you okay? haven’t heard from Clay_  
_everything all right? is he still in jail?_

Later: _DUDE_ _what’s doing on???_

From Zach, around two hours before:

_Yo, did Clay’s mom bust him out of jail? He’s not responding_  
_You alive bro?_

From Alex, around ten, to both Clay and Justin in a group text:

_I can’t believe the idiocy of people. Did you just see the news?_  
_FYI, my dad said they found Tony’s car. He’s pissed though because they’re holding onto it to look for evidence._

Later, about thirty minutes ago: _Don’t worry, the police are going to make a statement._

And from Tony, almost an hour ago:

_finally got my fucking phone back_  
_you two still at it? ffs_  
_tell Clay to answer his godamn phon_

Justin swapped to his call log to find it lit with a bunch of red names: two missed calls from Jess, one from Zach, and four from Tony. Since Tony was the last missed call, Justin called him back first.

“Dude,” Tony said after barely a full ring. “Is Clay in jail?”

“No,” Justin replied quickly, “we—we just got back.”

“Back?” Tony exclaimed. “Back from what? The fuck have you been doing? Wait—you, you know what? Don’t answer that. Have you not seen the news at all?”

Justin thought for a moment. “We’ve purposely been trying not to.”

“Right, okay, I get it. Well, quick recap: the cops found my car, but won’t fucking release it to me just yet. Somehow, some of the news picked up that _Clay_ was the attempted shooter, _not_ Tyler—”

“What the fuck?” Justin spat.

“I know. Look, idiocy breeds idiocy, no? Clay had the goddamn gun on him. Plus everyone saw him being taken away by the police. It was barely an hour ago that the fucking police finally held a news conference to announce that they had raided Tyler’s house and named him a person of interest.”

Justin let himself collapse onto the couch. “Oh my God,” Justin sighed, rubbing his forehead. “There was a news van just outside the house earlier. We saw it just as we were getting back.”

“Dude, we’ve been trying man, but it doesn’t help when we couldn’t reach either of you. Aside from Clay, you and Jess were the only ones that really saw what happened.”

“And we didn’t see everything, either,” Justin added.

“In any case, Clay should be off the hook from the police. At least for now.”

“What about Tyler? Have you heard from him?”

“No. It turns out his phone was in his car, the one he left at school. I never really worked out with him a way to get in touch.” After a pause, Tony went on, “Listen, I gotta go. Will you please text everyone else and let them know you’re all right?”

They ended the call, and as Justin let out another sigh, he couldn’t help letting out a humorless laugh. Tony must have thought he and Clay had been at it the whole morning. In a perfect world, they would’ve been, if all this Tyler bullshit hadn’t gotten in the way. He sent Jess, Zach, and Alex each a quick text to acknowledge their respective messages. Jess responded right away.

_i’m so sorry everything is so fucking crazy_

_Not ur fault, sorry we kept you hanging_

_no worries, glad you’re okay_  
_figures you’ve been busy? hahaha_

Jess had thrown in a winking emoji with two eggplants, which made Justin laugh.

_I wish, lol_

_did u 2 get a chance to talk at least??_

_Yes, we did. We’re in a lot better place now_  
_Thanks to u_

_happy to help_

She threw in a bunch of heart and kisses emoji with the message, which made Justin grin. It was a crazy juxtaposition, to be hopping back and forth between something so great and something so nearly tragic, and could still be. They weren’t out of the woods yet, and Justin briefly wondered if Tyler was, in fact, literally in the woods somewhere.

Justin messaged both Zach and Alex that Monty had something to do with Tyler, and both responded shortly after with similar sentiments. Zach texted that Clay had balls of steel, and Justin so very wanted to spin some kind of sex joke from it, but decided against it, as he wasn’t sure if he should tell Zach yet.

Alex insisted that the police would track down Tyler, and that he was in deep shit for all the stuff they found at his house.

_What did they find?_

Alex  
_Nothing that helps his case._  
_He needs to turn himself in._

_Anybody heard from Monty? Or Bryce?_

Alex  
_Not yet_

Zach  
_No, but I’m poking around_

The door opened, and as Clay entered the room, Justin saw his own dejection mirrored in Clay’s demeanor.

“I take it you’re all caught up?” Clay asked.

“Yeah,” Justin replied, nodding. “Your folks fill you in?”

Clay plopped himself beside Justin and leaned into him. After only a brief moment of hesitation, Justin put his arm around the boy. He still wasn’t quite used to this just yet.

“It’s been a hell of a morning,” Clay went on, resting his head on Justin’s shoulder. “Aren’t you glad we got out of the house when we did?”

Justin lay his head against Clay’s. “Yeah, I am,” he said, giving the boy’s arm a squeeze. “What do we do now?”

Clay sat up and separated from Justin. “Honestly, I just need to do something normal.” He looked at Justin, and quickly took his hand. “Not that—our relationship isn’t normal. I mean, yeah, there’s other stuff we could be doing right now, but it wouldn’t technically be normal—for me—just, just out of the ordinary—”

“Clay!” Justin interrupted, putting his other hand on top of Clay’s. His boyfriend’s. “That wasn’t an invitation! It was just a question.”

“Sorry,” the boy said, shaking his head, “sorry. You’re right.”

Justin offered him a gentle smile. “Honestly, I could use a little normal right now, too.” He reached for his backpack by the couch. “Let’s do our fucking homework.”

Clay smiled back at him. “Homework it is, then,” the boy said, standing, and made for his backpack by the desk.

While Clay settled at his desk, Justin spread out on the couch, and they worked in companionable silence for a few hours before dinner. Matt had opted for Chinese take-out again, which allowed Justin and Clay to eat upstairs as they finished their work. Well, Clay had long finished, but Justin was forcing his way through the last chapter of _Invisible Man._

Justin looked up to see Clay hunched over his laptop, clicking and scrolling rapidly.

“Any news?”

“No,” Clay replied. “Most of the articles claiming that I was the shooter look like have been scrubbed, at least.” He grabbed his phone. “A lot of these posts online, though, Jesus…”

“Clay,” Justin said, rising from the couch, “put that away.” He leaned over the back of Clay’s chair, and nuzzled against his ear. “I wanna cuddle,” Justin whispered.

His boyfriend inhaled a deep breath, and turned towards his embrace. “Finish your reading, and then we can cuddle.”

Justin made a whine, but settled back onto the couch. After another forty-five minutes, and thirty pages later (Ellison was a dense read), he was finished. After loudly proclaiming so, he and Clay packed up their work, then took turns brushing their teeth. After stripping off their outer layers, they shut off the lights and settled into bed.

As they nestled into each other’s arms and brought the covers over them, Justin relished the sense of calm that began to soothe the tension out of his body—in spite of everything.

“I could really get used to this,” Clay uttered.

“Me too.”

It wasn’t long until Justin heard and felt Clay’s breathing fall into that pattern of slumber, and that was all he needed to finally rest.


	2. Back to School

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Justin and Clay return to school after the Spring Fling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should probably forecast the upcoming references to Tyler's assault.

Clay drove onto the lot and pulled into the closest available parking spot. They could’ve been early, but Justin sensed that the parking lot was emptier than usual. In yet another role reversal, Clay had been the one to wake Justin that morning because there had barely been any sunlight. As Justin gazed out of the window at everyone walking towards the school, thick clouds still loomed overhead, blotting out the sun. It was going to rain.

What was definitely out of the ordinary were the police cruisers parked every few thousand feet around the school.

Justin looked over at Clay, who looked back at him in return. Clay exhaled deeply. “You ready?”

Shaking his head, Justin said, “Not really. You?”

Sighing once more, Clay said, “Yeah, same.” He turned his head towards the windshield.

Justin gently reached over and took the boy’s hand. Clay squeezed his hand back without looking at him. “Did Jess tell anyone?”

After a moment, Justin slowly let go of Clay’s hand. “I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

The boy looked back at him. “Do you still care if people know or not?”

“No.”

Clay cleared his throat and leaned back into his seat. “Are you gonna be upset at me if I—couldn’t say the same?”

“No,” Justin repeated.

Shaking his head, Clay went on, “I just—I just know everyone’s gonna be looking at me, and not knowing the exact reason why… It’s dumb, I know.”

“No, not really. I get it.”

“I mean, the not knowing is what’s getting to me—not the reasons themselves. It’s like, what am I supposed to be bracing for, you know?”

Justin unlocked the doors. “Well, we won’t know until we go in, right?” He opened the door and stepped out of the car. As he looked back in at Clay, Justin said, “I got your back, whatever happens.”

Clay smiled back at him, and nodded before opening his door. Justin shut his own door and waited for the boy in front of the car. As they began walking towards the school together, side-by-side, Justin was sorely tempted to put his arm around Clay’s shoulder, to shield him from everyone, and to dare anyone to fuck with his boyfriend. But—Justin played it cool. Attention was clearly not what Clay wanted, although they both knew they were going to get it regardless of what they did.

And they were right. As they trekked up the sidewalk, eyes from every direction seemed to land on them, one pair after the next. It was like that day over a month ago, when Justin had first returned to school officially, but doubly worse.

The night before, in spite of telling Clay not to look at them, Justin snuck a few glances at his own phone to see the posts online about the night of the dance, and aside from the stupidity, some people were just ruthless.

_Psycho. Freak. Nut job. Murderer._ Those were just some of the words being flung about, and people were conflating Tyler’s actions with Clay’s, and many couldn’t leave Hannah out of it, either. The truth of what really happened was simply buried beneath all the noise.

They passed a police officer standing guard as they neared the main entrance.

“Well,” Clay commented, “they’re definitely taking this seriously.”

Justin attempted a smile. “Relax, Jensen. I don’t think they’re here for you.”

“Clay!”

Justin and Clay turned to see Scott trotting up to them. “Clay,” Scott repeated, stopping just in front of them, “you’re here.”

Clay furrowed his eyebrows. “Where else would I be?”

“I—well, Zach told me what happened, but I just… Is it true? Was it you? Did you really talk Tyler down all by yourself?”

Jensen glanced at Justin before looking back at Scott. “Yeah, I did,” Clay replied.

“It’s true,” Justin added. “I was there.”

Scott blew out a gust of air from his mouth. “That’s fucking crazy, man. It’s just—so many people have been talking, and it’s like, nobody really knew _what_ was going on. Are you okay?”

“So far,” Clay said, shrugging. He started to walk inside, and Justin followed him, as did Scott.

“Well,” Scott went on, “people said you got arrested. Did that really happen?”

“What’s it to you, Scottie?” Justin asked.

“I wasn’t,” Clay cut in. “I was just questioned, that’s all.”

Scott eyed Justin briefly before looking back at Clay. “People said you had the gun on you, which is why the cops took you. Is that true?”

Clay and Justin glanced at each other again. “That was,” Clay began, “part of the mix up.”

“Look, Clay was just freaking out, okay?” Justin said. “It was a fucked-up situation.”

“Yeah,” Scott agreed, “I can’t, I can’t imagine. Look, I just needed to make sure you were okay.”

“Mr. Jensen!”

The three of them looked to see Principal Bolan down the hall—as did everyone else in the hall around them. “In my office,” he called as he approached them.

“We haven’t had homeroom, yet, though,” Clay said.

“Now, please,” Bolan insisted, and he looked ready to drag Clay by the arm if he refused.

Justin swallowed the bitter flare of anger that swelled inside his chest as he caught Clay’s gaze before the boy was escorted away. Justin looked back towards Scott. “When did you two start hanging out?”

Scott shrugged. “We haven’t,” he said.

“Have you heard from Monty?”

Scott shook his head. “Zach mentioned he thought he had something to do with Tyler. I haven’t seen him around since before the dance. Monty, I mean.”

“Monty attacked Tyler,” Justin said. “I’d bet money on it. And that’s why he—tried to do what he did.”

At that, Scott seemed to swallow and look towards the floor. “I’ll ask around; see what I can find out. Monty and the other guys, though—they don’t really talk to me anymore.”

“Well,” Justin said, “you’re not a rapist. That’s something to be proud of, isn’t it?” Scott nodded. “Look,” Justin went on, “we gotta find Tyler, or Monty—or else Clay could wind up in some deep shit.”

Scott looked him in the eyes and nodded again. “I’ll see what I can find out,” he said, then went on his way down the hall.

As Justin started towards his locker, he couldn’t help but wonder about Scott. What might his true intentions be? Justin could definitely sympathize with him, now that Bryce was gone and the baseball team was in shambles, but there seemed to be more than that—like he was deliberately trying to look out for Clay. Why was Scott Reed going out of his way like that?

Justin neared his locker only to find Tony standing right before it.

“Good morning, Mr. Foley,” Tony greeted, stepping aside.

Chuckling, Justin replied, “You get called to the principal’s office, too?”

“Not yet, but I’ve seen Bolan on the prowl this morning. I saw Cyrus’ sister leave his office earlier. Just waitin’ my turn.”

“Clay got it just now,” Justin scoffed, opening his locker. “Right when we walked in.”

“Shit,” Tony uttered. “Those dickheads better not suspend him. I was gonna ask him to help me pick up my car after school.”

“You don’t have it back, yet?”

“Not yet. Technically, it’s been released, but I gotta go after school to get it. My pops wasn’t too happy about all this, so he said I pretty much gotta get it myself.” Tony gave Justin a flat smile. “I figured it was the least Clay could do.”

“Sure you don’t wanna just ask one of the cops here for a ride?” He grinned at Tony.

Tony shot him a dry look. “Very funny.”

Justin managed a brief laugh. “Yeah, well, that’s _if_ they don’t arrest him before the day is up.”

Tony shook his head. “I talked to Alex. They aren’t gonna do that.”

Justin pulled his physics book from his locker and dropped it in his backpack. “But you still think they could suspend Clay?”

Sighing, Tony replied, “I don’t know. It’s all a fucking mess, Justin. They’re scrambling. No telling what they’re gonna do.”

“Scott caught us on the way in,” Justin said, shutting his locker. “He said he hasn’t seen Monty in a while.”

“Yeah, I’ve been looking for him, too. My guess is he’s keeping a low profile.”

Justin slung his backpack over his shoulder and they started to walk. “I’ve been trying not to think about it, but—what do you think Monty did? To Tyler?”

“Sheri overheard something late on Friday, and didn’t put it together until all the shit went down after the dance. She overheard some girls talking about the janitors having to clean up some blood in the boy’s bathroom, and…”

They stopped walking. Justin looked at Tony. “And—what?”

Tony hesitated. “One of the girls saw the janitor carrying out a mop,” he said, lowering his voice, “and the handle—was covered in blood.”

Justin gave him a look. “So, Monty beat the shit out of Tyler with a mop?” Anger flared again inside his chest. “That’s _it?”_

Tony shook his head, swallowing. “The way Sheri described it, those girls were freaked the fuck out.” He leaned towards Justin. “The top of the handle—was _drenched_  in blood. You, you don’t get blood on it like that—just by hitting someone.”

It only took Justin another half a second before it clicked—and his gut twisted. “Jesus— _fucking_ Christ,” he hissed.

Tony was still shaking his head. “The more I think about it, the more it makes sense.”

“That sick fuck,” Justin went on. He felt his face burn.

“I mean, talk about breaking the camel’s back. It probably would’ve been better if Monty had done that, instead. Or _anything_ else.”

Justin felt his face continue to burn. “Monty is fucking dead.”

“Whoa, whoa, hold on, tiger,” Tony said, patting Justin’s arm. “Monty is just the fucking attack dog. You gotta know who’s holding the leash.”

_Bryce_. Justin didn’t even want to say his name. In spite of his anger, though, something still didn’t sit right, and he shook his head. “It doesn’t make sense. He’s pretty much gotten away with everything. Why jeopardize all of that, now?”

Tony shrugged. “Well, you know him better than anyone. Is Bryce Walker the kind of guy to hold a grudge?”

~             ~             ~

Justin was called to Bolan’s office just after he had gotten settled into third period. He’d texted Clay if everything was all right, and all he’d gotten back was a _For now._ Maybe Justin had momentarily gained psychic powers, because he knew what was about to happen as soon as the classroom door opened. Even before the vice principal walked in. He didn’t need the text from Jess that said, _be ready._

Childs’ eyes honed in on Justin like lasers, as if she knew exactly where he was sitting. “Justin Foley?” He merely gazed back at her. “Come with me,” she said simply, and the room was utterly silent as all eyes, including Ms. Nickerson’s, fell upon him. He made a move to pack up his stuff, but Childs admonished him, saying, “Leave your things. You’ll return shortly.”

_How gestapo,_ was all Justin could think of as the vice principal escorted him down the empty hallway. But he surprised himself—he wasn’t nervous. He was pissed. Monty’s smug face had been sitting with him since that morning, an image he very dearly wanted to smash his fist into. If only it were real.

Principal Bolan met Justin at the door to his office, and waved him inside, saying, “Come on in,” as if he wasn’t just about to interrogate Justin.

As he sat, Justin quickly evaluated how to play this. This man still had Clay’s fate in his hands, so it was probably better not to be an asshole. Instead of slouching back against the chair, Justin sat up, attentive, interlacing his fingers in his lap. If there was one good thing he learned while on the inside, it was how to appear completely docile. Respectful.

Justin sat in silence as Bolan settled into his chair. He met the principal’s eyes briefly before looking away, and he let Bolan examine him. Judge him. _Well, judge away, asshole. Just leave Clay alone._

“Justin,” Bolan finally said, “how are you?”

“Fine,” he replied simply.

“How have you been adjusting? Being back?”

“Honestly,” Justin began, but withheld a _sir—_ too much—he decided, “I haven’t had a chance, really.” He cleared his throat. “It always seems like something is going down.”

“I know,” Bolan said, nodding. “I’m sorry for that. I truly am.” Justin was surprised, but not disarmed; he kept quiet, and Bolan went on, “There’s been so much—chaos—going on, and that’s not how a school should function. It’s not how a school should operate.”

When Justin remained silent, Bolan continued, “Justin, I need your help. From what I’ve been told, you’re one of the very few witnesses to what truly happened Saturday evening. I just need to know—what did you see?”

Justin swallowed. “Why do you need to talk to me? You’ve already talked to Jess. Or, is it just a policy— _not_ to believe what girls say?”

At that, Bolan visibly cringed as he inhaled a sharp breath. Justin could see the principal swallow, and brought his hand over the desk, his fingers twitching briefly.

“Justin, we have an obligation, in this situation, to ensure we collect as many of the facts as we can. Especially when there is so much— _misinformation_ to muck through.”

He briefly thought the principal was ready to curse at him. “I don’t know what I could tell you that Jess and Mackenzie haven’t already.”

Bolan clenched his fist briefly towards Justin before snapping it away. “See, but you—you kids—you _clearly_ talk. You obviously hear things. That’s what I need—to sort through what could be true, and what couldn’t be.”

“What about the police?”

The principal shook his head. “They don’t have any better sense of things than we do—than _I_ do. That’s why you’re here, Justin.”

“Right,” Justin said, scoffing. “What do you plan on doing with Clay?”

Bolan shook his head. “What about Clay?”

“Are you going to suspend him?”

“Should I?”

“No!” Justin exclaimed, then gave a dry laugh. “You’re just looking for someone to pin this on—just like you did with Hannah. Except this time, with Tyler, this is all too big to scapegoat somebody who isn’t around, so you need someone who is, don’t you?”

Bolan sighed, and began rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Justin, I understand you’re angry—”

“I’m not angry,” Justin interrupted. “I’m— _livid._ ” He had to thank Ellison for this moment. “I watched the police haul Clay away for no good reason—because he was having a fucking panic attack—sorry—and nobody would just take a goddamn moment to just wait and _listen_.”

“Well,” Bolan said, opening his palms, “I’m listening now.”

“Too little, too late,” Justin spat, shifting in his chair. “Tyler was driven to that moment—because nobody would listen. So Clay had to step in—he had to put his _fucking_ life on the line—because nobody would listen. Because Tyler had been turned away too many times.”

Justin took a moment to swallow. “Hannah was turned away just once, and that cost her her fucking life. Who knows how many times it’d happened to Tyler! And because it’d happened one too many times, it came down to Clay to do something—because that’s just the kind of fucking person he is.

“Clay stared down the barrel of a goddamn _assault_ rifle, straight at Tyler, and he didn’t give up when Tyler pressed the barrel into his chest. Clay was literally a trigger pull away from death—one trigger pull away from a complete fucking _massacre—_ and he knew that. But he still didn’t give up on Tyler.”

Justin felt a tear drop down his cheek, and he quickly wiped it away. “Clay knew the right thing to do,” Justin went on, “and he knew no one else was gonna do it. I know what people have been saying, all the bullshit. Let me tell you this—everyone at the fucking dance that night—including me—owes their lives to Clay. He’s a fucking hero.”

Justin blinked again, shedding a few more tears, and moved to wipe them away as he sniffled. “And, let me tell you something else—he saved this fucking school, because after Hannah, you don’t even wanna think where we’d all be right now if Clay hadn’t done what he did.”

Bolan had a fist curled in front of his mouth. As he inhaled deeply and shifted in his chair, he said, “Don’t you think I know that, Justin? I don’t want to suspend Clay, but if I don’t come up with something else, that decision will be beyond me. I have no doubt what Clay did, and I am _immensely_ grateful, but another hero is not what I need right now. What I need—is stability, and to pull this school back from the brink of chaos.”

“And you really think keeping Clay out of school is gonna do that?”

“No, I don’t, but as I said, that decision could be beyond me.”

Justin laughed another bitter laugh and shook his head. “Just like it was beyond you what they did to Hannah at the trial, right?”

Bolan sat back in his chair and sighed. “Justin, please—what happened to Tyler? Do you know where he is?”

Justin shook his head. “I don’t. Clay had almost gotten Tyler down all the way—he’d gotten the gun from him—but Tony showed up, spooking Tyler again. He turned on Tony as the cop sirens started wailing in the distance, and forced him to drive them away in Tony’s car. That’s the last I saw of Tyler.”

The principal sighed again. “Do you have any idea where he might be right now?”

Justin glared at Bolan. “Don’t you even care what drove Tyler to this?”

Bolan pinched the bridge of his nose again. “Of course, I do, but that’s not the most pressing—”

“Bullshit, you don’t care,” Justin cut in. He wasn’t sure how much longer he was going to get away with it, but as he felt the adrenaline continue to pump away in his blood, he didn’t care. “Or else you wouldn’t have had them wipe away the evidence from the bathroom.”

Bolan regarded him seriously, his brow furrowing tightly. “What are you talking about?”

“Friday. The blood—and the mop—from the boy’s bathroom.” When Bolan appeared to be stunned into silence, Justin went on, “There was blood all over the bathroom. And a mop with a bloody handle—just at the end—and it wasn’t from being used to hit somebody with.”

“Did you witness this?”

“No,” Justin admitted, “but some girls saw it as it was being cleaned up. I heard people talking about it this morning. I didn’t make the connection until then.”

Bolan’s façade of calm had vanished. He began to stare at his desk. “Who?” he uttered.

At first, Justin thought he meant who had he heard it from, but he realized—the man couldn’t be _that_ dense. “Who do you think?” Justin said sharply.

Bolan met his eyes again, then stood up, and opened the door. “Thank you, Justin,” he said, extending his arm through the doorway. “Head back to class.”

Justin stood, and the vice principal met him again at the door to escort him. _Just like juvie_ , he thought bitterly, unable to move his hands from his sides. Even though there weren’t any chains.

As they walked back down the empty hallway, Justin could feel the adrenaline draining from his bloodstream. With the anger beginning to fade, he began to wonder, had he really done Clay any favors? Or did he just make everything worse? And, should he have showed his hand by tipping Bolan off about the blood in the bathroom? The principal clearly had no idea. Could he be trusted _not_ to cover that up, too?

Childs stopped in front of the door to his third period, and watched him as he re-entered the classroom. Mrs. Nickerson was in mid-sentence, and paused just briefly as Justin settled back into his seat. He didn’t bother to try to pay attention for the rest of the period. What was the point? The classroom was half empty, anyway.

One thing was for sure—he realized—though. Now that he’d spoken out, he couldn’t sit out on the sidelines any longer. He was gonna have to do something, because one thing was clear—the school couldn’t be trusted. This battle had to be fought on more than one front.

He just really, really hoped Clay wouldn’t be _too_ pissed at him.


	3. Angels and Demons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Justin pays Bryce a visit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up for direct depiction of drug use and references to Tyler's assault.

The night before they were supposed to start seventh grade, Justin spent the night over at Bryce’s house. It was when these sleepovers were still planned in advance, when Bryce’s mom was still actively making sure there were as little obstacles as possible to Justin being around their house. Justin had loved her for it at the time, but as he grew older, looking back on it now, he came to realize how similar their mothers were in many ways. They were nothing like Mrs. Jensen.

Bryce had gotten sleeping bags so they could sleep on the floor in his room. It was to pretend they were camping, or some bullshit like that. Really, it was probably so that Justin wouldn’t have to be alone in the guest room. Over the course of that night, Justin had wet himself in his sleep. When he’d woken up, Justin burst into tears just as Bryce was waking up. When he asked what was wrong, Justin could barely speak, and refused to get out of the bag, until Bryce came over and the smell made everything excruciatingly obvious.

He’d insisted to Justin that it was no big deal, Priscilla would take care of it—no harm, no foul. It only ever happened that one time, and they never spoke of it again. Not directly, anyway.

It wasn’t until almost a year later, when they were supposed to start eighth grade. It was another sleepover, and they’d already gone to bed, having settled into their sleeping bags. Bryce turned the lights back on, and called out to Justin. He pulled a bag of diapers from underneath his bed and tossed them at Justin, bursting out laughing once Justin realized what they were. He called Bryce an asshole, which only made his best friend laugh even harder.

Justin managed to laugh along with him, but the lesson he’d learned that night—like touching a hot stove—became engrained in his mindset before he even consciously realized it years later. Bryce remembered things. Important, painful things. And he was not afraid to show that he was ready to pull those things back to the surface at any time.

Because, really, they could have joked about that night Justin wet himself, and it would’ve been funny, and they both would’ve laughed. But to actually purchase a full set of expensive adult diapers—just to lob at him, to see his reaction—and to have physical evidence of that night potentially on full display…

Justin got off of Clay’s bike and set it beside the steps to Bryce’s front door. He thought back to Tony’s question at school that morning, and he realized, how could Justin have been so fucking stupid? Bryce Walker would abso-fucking-lutely hold a grudge.

Justin trotted up the steps and started to bang on the door. Bryce’s parents wouldn’t be in—they never were—so there was no need for courtesy. He pressed the doorbell repeatedly, and started banging on the door once more.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” He heard through the door, just before it swung open. Arrogant bastard wasn’t even afraid. “Justin?” Bryce shot him a confused look, and started to smile. “Well, _this_ is a surprise. Didn’t think I’d see you again so soon. _Here_ of all places. You need to borrow twenty bucks?”

He could have fucking punched him. “Where’s Monty?” Justin snapped.

“Not here,” Bryce scoffed. “Seriously, dude—you came all the way here for _Monty?”_

“Stop with the fucking act, Bryce,” Justin spat. _“Where’s_ Monty?”

Bryce laughed. “Justin, seriously, chill! I have no idea where that loser is. Nor do I want to know.”

“Bullshit.”

Bryce sighed. “Brother, seriously—”

“Don’t you fucking call me that.”

Bryce raised his hands. “Yeesh, my bad. Sorry, I guess I gotta file a petition in court, first, though, huh?”

Justin felt his hand clenching into a fist, but he took a deep breath, and grit his teeth. “I’m only gonna ask you—one. More. Time. Where—is Montgomery?”

Laughing, Bryce said, “And I’ll just answer you one—more. Time. I have no fucking clue!”

Justin shook his head, forcing out a long, deep breath. “You’re a real sick fuck, you know that?”

“Funny—I don’t recall trying to shoot up a dance. I hardly see how that makes _me_ the sick fuck.”

“What’d you think was gonna happen—when you order one of your boys to fucking _sodomize someone with a broom handle?”_

Finally, Bryce’s flippant demeanor seemed to crack, but only just. “Wh—wait, what?” Bryce forced a laugh. “Justin, man, you sure you’re clean, buddy? That must be some _wicked_ shit you’re on right now.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Justin hissed. “You’re not even gonna deny it?”

“Dude,” Bryce exclaimed, flinging his hands upwards, “I don’t even _understand_ what you’re trying to get me to deny!”

“You sent Monty after Tyler!” Justin shouted. “You told him to fuck Tyler up—just like you fucked up Jessica!”

Bryce forced another laugh, but he no longer seemed amused. “Justin—buddy—you have to believe me: I _never_ told Monty to go after you guys. Clay, you, Alex, Zach—”

“Bull-fucking-shit.”

“—and I would have _never_ told him to go after Tyler!” He raised his hands wide. “Seriously, dude, we’re both on probation! Do you think I’d really do something _that_ stupid?”

At that, Justin couldn’t help but hesitate. Bryce was right. It _was_ really fucking stupid. But then again—maybe Bryce hadn’t banked on Tyler snapping like he did.

“Brother,” Bryce went on, “you gotta believe me.” He reached across and Justin watched him grasp his shoulder. “Look, I know we’ve had our differences, and we could never go back to the way things were, but one thing I’ve never done—I’ve _never_ lied to you. I’ve _always_ told you the truth.”

The lunatic had actually said that with a straight face. Justin burst out laughing, and he flung his shoulder backwards to escape Bryce’s grip before taking another step back.

“You know what, Bryce? All this time—ever since you forced your way past me to rape my girlfriend in her sleep—I thought I was the crazy one. I thought I had to be, to let you do what you did. Because of everything you’d done for me. _To_ me.

“But—it wasn’t me. It was you. _You,_ Bryce. _You’re_ the crazy one. You’ve been lying to me every goddamn day since the day we met. You don’t know how to tell the truth—because you have no _idea_ what the truth _is._ You can’t—because you don’t feel a fucking thing. _”_

Justin turned away from Bryce and started walking back down the steps. “Your lap dog is off his leash,” he called out. “Just how loyal do you think he’s gonna be when they find him, huh? Now that you’ve tossed him aside?”

“Justin, wait!” Justin kept walking. “Brother, please!”

Justin got on Clay’s bike and started to ride.

~             ~             ~

It began raining as Justin rode back. By the time he’d returned to the house, he was soaked. He tried to set Clay’s bike back into the garage as calmly as he could in spite of his frayed nerves, but after entering the house, he stopped himself as he gazed up at the stairwell, then looked back down at his sopping sleeves still dripping with rain. “Fuck!”

Justin trotted back out into the garage, and cut into the laundry room to strip off his soaked outer layers before toweling himself off. Once he was mostly dry, he re-entered the house through the kitchen and made his way up to Clay’s room. He shut the door, and locked it behind him. He then made for the closet, and found a fresh pair of jeans and a dry hoodie to slip into before planting himself on the couch. He took a deep breath, exhaled, and took another deep breath.

Despite all of that, he still trembled. His hands still shook. And it wasn’t because he was cold. Or from the rain that continued to pelt the windows.

Justin had thought through a million awful scenarios that night as Clay confronted Tyler—as Jess helped him resist the urge to burst from that hallway again—but he never actually took the time to think of how terrifying the reality of the situation had been, despite their narrow escape from tragedy. Sure, Justin had been scared shitless, but what about Clay? What had been going through the boy’s mind as Tyler aimed the rifle directly at his face? Did Tyler approach him, or try to get around him? How did Clay actually get the gun away from him?

Had Clay gone _there_ again? Was he still trying to make up for Hannah? Did he think it was what he deserved, because he had no other choice?

Justin had forced himself not to think about that night, so laying it all out in front of Bolan like that had taken a bigger toll on his psyche than he expected. And then, to go and face Bryce, Justin had figured his former friend couldn’t still get to him like that anymore, but that one word—that _fucking_ word—still stirred up feelings that were like hundreds of undead hands suddenly shooting out from the ground, and they were all reaching desperately to drag him back under.

Clay had really tried to get Justin to come along with him and Tony to the impound lot to pick up Tony’s car. Justin had refused, saying he wasn’t feeling that hot, and that he just wanted to be dropped off at the house. He’d almost said it— _home_ —but had caught himself. _Wrong H._ Justin tried not to notice the look of disappointment on Clay’s face as he shifted into reverse and pulled out of the school parking lot.

What the fuck did Clay expect? Even when Justin’s mother still had her shit together, Justin had never felt _at home_ anywhere. It was a word he barely used. He was still trying to get used to things!

Justin looked up and gazed at the posters around Clay’s room. Fuck, he wasn’t mad at Clay, or Bryce, or Bolan, or Monty, really. He looked back down at his hands, which continued to shake, and he realized, really, he was pissed at himself.

He was tweaking out. He was edging on the verge of another withdrawal, and he’d come so close— _so_ fucking close—only to blow it. He should never have taken those pills from Ren. He should never have started using again. _Just once_. Just once—was all it took.

And, he’d overextended himself. Who was he kidding? Justin wasn’t strong enough. Not yet. He was no hero. He wasn’t anywhere near as tough as Clay. If he were more like Clay, he wouldn’t be sitting here now, staring at his gym bag underneath the bed—starving for another hit.

_Fuck it._ Fuck it. Justin shot off the couch and leapt towards the bed, yanking his bag from beneath it. He had to keep his shit together. For Clay. Justin wouldn’t be any use to anybody like this. He could do this—he really could. He just needed a little help. Just a little.

He dug through his bag, found the rolled-up gray t-shirt he was looking for, and as he unrolled it on the floor—his hands, remarkably, beginning to steady—Justin paused, gazing at the needle before him. The need for a hit roared inside of him, almost like an earthquake, and he couldn’t help but remark at how strong it was. _This was a mistake._ It was a mistake.

He then looked at his foot, which was already bare because he’d gotten soaked from the rain, and he’d stripped off his shoes and socks before coming back into the house. It was a sign. He’d already done half the work already. He reached for the syringe.

“You really think that’s a good idea, Justin?”

Justin cried out and stumbled backwards as he spun around to face the voice behind him.

It was Hannah. Fucking Hannah Baker, standing in front of the door.

Justin reached for a book under Clay’s desk and threw it at her, but she’d already vanished when he sent it flying and it simply bounced off the door. His heart racing, Justin could only gape at the nothingness where the book landed.

“That’s one of Clay’s favorites, you know.” Justin spun his head towards the bed, where Hannah was now sitting. “What did Spinelli ever do to you?”

Justin could only stare at her. She stared back at him. After a moment, Justin reached into his bag and tried to fling a shirt at her, but it merely unfurled and soared uselessly past Hannah, who watched it tumble onto the floor.

“You’re not here!” Justin snapped.

Hannah gave him a confused look, then shrugged. “Okay.”

Justin looked around for something else to throw and found another book beneath Clay’s desk, but the universe had clearly taken away all of his hand-eye coordination as it flapped open like a mangled bird and hilariously flew up and over the bed and nowhere near where Hannah was sitting.

“Justin, calm down. You’re gonna break something.”

“You’re not here,” Justin whispered, covering his face. “This isn’t happening. You’re not here.”

When he removed his palms from his eyes, Hannah was no longer sitting on the bed. He almost let out a sigh of relief, but he felt a presence behind him—and looked over only to see her on the couch.

“Oh, fuck off!” Justin cried out.

Scoffing, Hannah said, “Come on, if I’m not here, why are you getting so worked up?”

Justin grabbed the syringe, unscrewed the bottle, rammed the needle in it, and started to draw back on the syringe.

“Hey, come on,” Hannah said gently, “are you sure you really wanna do that?”

“Yes,” Justin hissed.

“Be honest with yourself,” she went on. “You don’t really need me here to tell you this is a mistake, do you?”

“You’re not here,” Justin uttered, the syringe barely a quarter full. It was all he had planned to take. Hannah wouldn’t fuck that up, at least. He brought his foot in towards the needle.

“What would Clay think of this, huh?”

Justin stopped. He looked up at Hannah, her sad eyes regarding him.

“Most people would take this as a sign,” she said.

He was hallucinating. He needed this. It was the only way to get back to level. The only way to get back to what Clay needed him to be. Calm, collected. Sane.

Justin jabbed the needle in between his two bigger toes and pressed on the syringe. The chills that swept over him soothed every tingling nerve in his body as the liquid sanity entered his bloodstream, and after a few seconds, that familiar and almost palpable sensation of _relief_ nearly overtook him. As he shut his eyes, it took most of his quickly rising stamina to keep from shouting.

He opened his eyes and looked to see Hannah gone from the couch. He laughed briefly. She might have had a hold over Clay, but there was no way he was gonna let her do the same to him. He quickly rolled his gear back up and stuffed it back into his duffle bag, zipping it shut. As he moved to slide it back under Clay’s bed, Justin glanced up to see Hannah back on the edge of the bed.

She was looking at him, tearful. “Well, if it’s any consolation,” she said, wiping her cheek, “Clay will probably forgive you. He loves you too much.”

Justin’s throat spasmed, and he felt a tear stream down his own cheek.

~             ~             ~

After a while, Justin had to admit, the hit helped. He’d sat back on the couch, waiting for Hannah to reappear, but she never did. He’d managed to stuff his bag back under the bed, and one moment, they both seemed to be crying together, and the next, he was alone again.

The doorknob shuttered. “Justin?”

_Shit._ Clay. _Fucking Prius._ Justin sprang from the couch and quickly opened the door, kicking the book he’d thrown from earlier out of the way. “Sorry, sorry,” Justin uttered.

Clay eyed him, confused. “Why’d you lock the door?” he asked.

“Sorry,” Justin repeated, rubbing the back of his neck, “force of habit.”

Clay forced a laugh, and shook his head. “Uh, can I come in?”

Justin hadn’t moved. _Idiot._ “Yeah! Yeah,” Justin exclaimed, hopping out of the way.

The boy was examining him now, definitely suspicious. As Clay came into the room and dropped his backpack by the desk, Justin sat back down on the couch and tried to avoid his boyfriend’s gaze.

“You changed,” Clay said, and Justin found himself curling his toes. “Did you shower?”

“Jesus, Clay,” Justin snapped, “what’s with the twenty questions?” _Yeah, not suspicious at all._

“Okay, you’re acting weird. I know today’s been rough, but what’s gotten into you?”

_He knows_. He should just come clean. Hannah was right—Clay would probably forgive him if he came clean. Right now.

Justin met Clay’s eyes, and the boy was beside him on the couch in a flash. “Justin, what happened?”

Clay took his hand, and right away, Justin found his restraint collapsing. “Please don’t be mad at me,” he croaked.

The boy merely squeezed his hand. “Hey,” he said gently, “whatever it is, you can tell me, all right?”

_I’m still using_. He was still using. “I’m—I, I went to see Bryce.”

Clay looked away quickly, but held onto his hand. Justin saw the boy’s other hand ball into a fist. “What,” Clay began, “what happened? What did he do? Did he hurt you?”

“No,” Justin said, shaking his head, “nothing. He didn’t do anything.”

His boyfriend let out a long sigh. “Why on _earth_ would you go see _Bryce?”_ Clay fumed.

“I—I was trying to get the truth. To see if he had anything to do with Monty and, and what he did to Tyler.” Clay met his eyes and let go of his hand. “Did Tony tell you what he thinks happened?” Justin went on.

Clay shook his head. “Sheri told me what she heard.”

“I got—I was so fucking pissed,” Justin blurted, “I, I had to see for myself—if Bryce put him up to it or not.”

The boy was still shaking his head. “You shouldn’t have done that. That was really reckless.” Clay’s eyes began to well. “That—could have turned out really, _really_ badly.”

“I could handle myself, Clay,” Justin said, clearing his throat. “I _did_ handle myself.”

“Then why are you so upset?”

Justin hung his head. “I think—I think I messed up.”

He told Clay about his visit with the principal, what he’d said to Bolan, and how the man didn’t seem to have any idea about the blood being cleaned up from the boy’s bathroom.

Clay merely shrugged. “Well, I don’t think you messed up too badly. I’m still not suspended, at least.”

Justin sighed. “Look, I know it was stupid, to go see Bryce, but I wasn’t trying to teach you a lesson, I swear. I wasn’t trying to worry you, or, make you feel how I felt.”

“You’re—still mad at me, though; about how I handled things with the police.”

“No,” Justin said, shaking his head. “I’m—I’m mad at myself, for not thinking about what you were going through—how you had to come up with a plan—all while Tyler was still pointing a gun in your face.” He looked at Clay. “I was so concerned about losing you, I didn’t think about how you might be losing yourself.”

Clay met his eyes, then looked away, sniffling. “If anything happens to you, _I_ would be losing myself.”

Justin managed a grin. “Aww,” he let out.

Clay looked back at him, suppressing a smile. “Shut up.”

Justin reached over and leaned against Clay, who leaned towards him in return. “So,” the boy said, “did Bryce have anything to do with Tyler?”

“No,” Justin said, sighing, “and I think that’s the problem. I tipped him off, just like I tipped Bolan off.”

“We don’t know that for sure. If Bryce goes after Monty, they would be tied together now, and they’d go down together.”

“Or,” Justin countered, “he could simply help him get away with it again. Just like before.”

Clay grasped his knee. “Well, then, we’ll just have to find Tyler, first.”

“How are we gonna do that?”

Clay exhaled deeply. “I have—no idea.” He sat up, and regarded Justin seriously. “In the meantime, no more recklessness, okay? You—you can’t go back inside. No matter what.”

Justin met his gaze, and nodded. “Okay.”

Clay stood up, and made for his desk as he started to talk about who else hadn’t seen Monty that day. Justin looked over at the bed to find Hannah sitting on the edge again, eyeing Justin with a disappointed look.

“Half-truths are only going to get you so far,” she said.

Justin felt his heart rate spike.

“Justin?”

He came to, again, and looked towards Clay. “Huh?”

“I said, what do you feel like for dinner?”

Justin glanced back towards the bed, and Hannah was gone.

“I’m,” Justin began, “I’m good with—whatever. Whatever’s fine. Except, maybe Chinese.”

Clay laughed briefly, then put his textbook down on the desk and sighed. “Sorry,” he said, and sat back down on the couch beside Justin. “It’s been a long day. I’m still not—used to this, yet.”

Justin gave a slight smile. “Used to what?”

As Clay spread out across the couch, Justin shifted over so that the boy could lie on his lap. He reached for Justin’s arm and wrapped their arms around him.

“This,” Clay said.

Justin chuckled. “Yeah, me too.” He looked over at the bed again, and it remained Hannah-less.


	4. Okay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Justin and Clay follow a lead.

It still seemed odd to Justin, having dinner with Clay and his family. Well, dinner itself wasn’t odd. It was the semblance of normal, and Justin wasn’t sure when the day would come when he could use the word _normal_ when referring to his life—and truly mean it.

Clay quickly went over his day at school, of his visit with the principal, and how everyone mostly either stared at him, or gave him a wide berth. Lainie had spoken to Deputy Standall, and she seemed more confident that Clay’s troubles with the police were less likely to resurface.

“Was that really such a good idea to pry?” Matt asked.

Clay’s mom took a sip of her wine. “I approached him as one parent to another. Nothing more.”

She then looked to Justin, and asked him about his day. He tried to be as open as possible, despite much of the day being a blur.

“It was okay. I mean, aside from the weird stuff, like Clay said, I was mainly just trying to—get used to everything again.”

Mrs. Jensen made an appreciative sound and nodded. “I know there’s a lot going on,” she said, “but I do have some good news. Your adoption proceedings are officially under way, and we have our hearing date set—a month from today.”

“Hearing date?” Clay cut in.

“Yes,” Lainie said, and looked towards Justin. “When we officially make our case to the judge to permanently allow you into our care.”

Justin felt chills run down towards his stomach. “Wow,” he said, forcing a polite laugh, “so just a month, and you’re stuck with me? Think I’ll be house-trained by then?”

“Justin,” Clay began.

“Kidding, kidding,” Justin uttered quickly.

Lainie was smiling as Matt said, “Even if you aren’t, no take-backs now, kid.” They all laughed.

That night, as Justin settled into bed with Clay, the boy asked him, “You know you’re not some stray, right?”

Justin let out a deep breath. “I—I know. I was joking.”

“Well,” Clay began, poking him hard in the side.

“Ow!”

“I won’t have you making jokes about your self worth. Not on my watch.”

“Okay,” Justin said, drawing out the word in defeat. He nestled closer to the boy, letting Clay hold him, and for the first time, Justin was pretty certain he’d fallen asleep before Clay.

The next day, because of some tests in other periods, Justin’s gym period aligned with Clay’s. Although Justin was early, he’d still entered the locker room after Clay, and was surprised to see the boy there at one of the lockers, slipping on his baby-blue gym t-shirt.

Justin casually took the locker closest to the aisle, just one down from Clay, who seemed just as surprised to see him.

“Fancy seeing you here, Jensen,” Justin remarked.

“You too, Foley,” Clay said, and they both grinned at each other.

There wasn’t anyone else in the locker room yet, but no sooner had the temptation entered Justin’s mind was it squashed when they heard someone else walk in.

They looked to see Scott come in, who saw them right away. “Clay,” he called, coming up to them, also nodding his head at Justin in acknowledgement.

“Scott,” Clay greeted.

“I was looking for you,” Scott said, coming to a stop between Justin and Clay on the other side of the bench. He glanced around, setting his bag down before turning his attention back towards Clay. “I,” Reed began, lowering his voice, “I found out who else was with Monty when they went after Tyler.”

Clay and Justin had drawn in closer to hear him. “Who?” Clay asked.

“Simmons, and Greer. They haven’t heard from Monty since Friday, either.”

“That’s it?” Clay blurted.

Scott shook his head. “I, I told them—I told them they needed to go to Bolan. Report what they saw.”

“Is it true?” Clay said. “What Monty did?”

Scott hung his head. “Seems like it, yeah.”

Clay and Justin both let out a sigh. “And they were really fine with that?” Justin demanded.

“They didn’t know!” Scott said quickly. “They had no idea Monty was gonna go that far.”

“Are they gonna say something?” Clay pressed. “For sure?”

Scott shrugged. “I—I don’t know.”

Clay shut his locker. “Try— _harder_ ,” he spat.

Sighing, Scott said, “They were both there. It wasn’t like I could take them both.”

Clay glared at Scott. “Still better odds than the ones I had.”

Justin eyed Reed as his shoulders fell. “Clay, I swear to you, I had nothing to do with that.”

“Yeah, but you knew about it, didn’t you?” Clay said, nodding sarcastically.

“Clay—”

“What are you talking about?” Justin cut in. Clay met his eyes, and his anger faded. “Knew about what?” Justin went on.

“Nothing,” Clay said.

Justin thought back to that night Clay picked him up from the bus station. He’d asked Clay about the bruises on his face, but the boy had brushed him off. He’d been too focused on the clubhouse at the time, and what they had ahead of them. He’d only said it was a sign they were close.

Justin looked back at Scott, at how guilty he looked, and it all suddenly clicked. Rage erupted inside of him, and Justin stepped over the bench, slamming Reed against the lockers.

“Justin!”

“You were a part of that?” Justin sneered. “You had the fucking _nerve_ to come after Clay?”

“I didn’t!” Scott exclaimed, his palms up. “I swear—I’d never, I would never hurt Clay!”

“Justin, stop!” Clay urged, grabbing onto him.

“Yeah,” Justin went on, ignoring Clay, “but you were all too happy to let him get the shit kicked out of him, huh?”

“I wasn’t!” Scott insisted.

A few other guys started entering the locker room, and Justin finally let go of Reed. “Coward,” Justin hissed.

“Yeah,” Scott said, “all right, I was. But—I made up for it, or I tried to!” He looked at Clay. “Tell him, I stopped you from getting hurt! When that brawl broke out at school, after Bryce testified.” He looked back at Justin. “The one _you_ started.”

Justin swallowed, looking away from Scott and towards the floor. “Is that why you did it?” Clay asked. “You felt guilty?”

“Something like that,” Scott replied. “Look, we’ve all done shit we’re not proud of.” He looked at Justin again. “You were the one who suggested to off Clay that one time.”

Chills spiked across Justin’s skin as he looked back at Reed. “Who the fuck told you that?”

Scott eyed him back, defiant. “Does it matter?”

Justin looked at Clay, who had a terrifyingly doubtful look on his face. “Clay,” Justin began, “I—I suggested it in passing only the one time. I was just—angry, and desperate—”

“And you guys compromised with—less drastic methods,” Scott finished. He looked at Clay. “I’m sure he was just venting. Letting off steam.” He eyed Justin. “You know how it was with Bryce.”

Scott opened a locker. “Look,” he went on, “I’ll talk to Greer and Simmons again. Make sure they see sense. I’ll tell Bolan myself, if I have to.”

Clay sighed, and patted Reed on the shoulder. “Do what you can, Scott. We can’t let Tyler go down for this.”

After they finished changing into their gym clothes, Justin hung back with Clay as they walked out of the locker room.

“Clay, listen—”

“Enemies to lovers,” the boy interrupted. When Justin looked at him, Clay smiled.

“What?”

“I’m pretty sure that’s how all the great love stories start,” Clay went on. “Two people initially hate each other, yada yada yada, they fall in love.”

Justin laughed. “Clay, I—”

This time, they stopped, and the boy shushed him with a quick kiss, which did the trick.

“We do _not_ need to dwell on that time of your life, okay?”

Justin suppressed a grin, feeling his cheeks burn. “Okay,” he agreed.

“Besides,” Clay said, and they resumed walking, “if you wanted to kill me, you’ve passed up _way_ too many chances to do so already.”

Justin burst out laughing as they stepped out onto the field. “Shut up, Jensen.”

He caught a glimpse of Scott on the field ahead of them, looking back at him and Clay. Reed’s gaze lingered on Justin for only another moment before looking away.

_Shit_ , Justin thought. If Scott didn’t know before, he definitely knew, now. Clay was getting reckless. Or—maybe it was really Justin who was getting sloppy. How soon would it be before everyone else knew, too?

~             ~             ~

Jess caught Justin at his locker right after third period.

“Hey, stranger,” she greeted, smiling.

“Jess, hey,” Justin replied, grinning back at her.

“Why does it feel like forever since I’ve seen you?”

“Probably ‘cause forever’s happened,” Justin offered, slipping his lit textbook in his locker.

“Okay, so,” Jess began, facing Justin and leaning against the lockers, “I need some distraction from all this craziness with Tyler. _Please_ tell me you have more details about you and Clay.”

Justin suppressed a laugh. Honestly, he’d been tempted to, but had ultimately chickened out in, seeking out Jessica to talk. It was too easy to blame all the drama with Tyler, but, he still wasn’t quite sure where they stood. Even after their heart-to-heart at the dance. He was glad she clearly wasn’t going to stand for any weirdness between them, and was happy for her to take the lead.

“Well, what do you wanna know?”

“Okay, well, let’s see,” Jess said, pulling out her phone. “Aside from the texts from yesterday, the last message I had from you on this was, ‘We’re in a better place now, thanks to you.’” She spread her arms wide. “I mean, come on! Talk about leaving a girl hanging!”

Justin laughed. “Was that not enough?”

“Uh, seeing as I’m the one who helped you to get to this ‘better place,’” Jess used finger quotes for emphasis, “I should at least know what exactly this _better place_ is.”

They looked at each other, and Jess burst out laughing as Justin zipped up his backpack. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be pushy. I just—really need this right now. Like I said, a distraction.”

Justin shut his locker and they started to walk. “Where are you headed?” he asked.

“I got my free period now. It got switched.”

They continued to walk. “What about you and Alex? Can’t he distract you?” Justin smiled.

“Well, obviously, I didn’t tell him about you two—yet! Only because I didn’t wanna spread any false rumors. And, well, he’s been pretty preoccupied with all this Tyler drama, too. Him and Zach, and trying to keep tabs on what the police are doing.”

“Sorry,” Justin said. “Come on, you _know_ I’ve always been bad at girl talk.”

Jess smirked. “This isn’t girl talk!”

“Uh huh,” Justin said, nodding.

“We’re simply talking about a boy—and your relationship!” When Justin gave her a look, she went on, “Okay, fine, it’s girl talk. But I am _literally_ dying, here! Are you and Clay an item, or not?”

Justin inhaled a deep breath, looked at Jess, and—after pausing for dramatic effect—said, “We are.”

Jessica squealed, hopping on her toes before launching herself at him for a hug. Justin laughed, hugging her back.

When she pulled back, she asked, “So does Clay not want anyone to know, or…?”

Shrugging, Justin replied, “We’re taking things slow. In terms of the—public front, I mean.”

“Do _you_ want people to know?”

“I don’t really care who knows. I’m trying not to push Clay, though. It’s still really new for him.”

Jess nodded, and they resumed walking. “Well, it’s new for you, too, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Have you talked about it?”

“Not—not really. We’re still kinda—figuring things out.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Jess said, and they slowed as they neared the junction in the hallway. “Plus, you’re living together, so that kinda complicates things.”

“Right.”

“On top of everything else.”

“Right,” Justin repeated, then laughed. “It’s like we’re hitting all the major milestones, but in the wrong order.”

Jess laughed with him, and they came to a stop. “Yeah, you’ve definitely got your work cut out for you. Well, I’m here, if you ever wanna talk. And—I promise, I won’t tell anyone until you say it’s okay.”

“Thank you.”

She took a step, then turned back. “If I could offer one piece of advice, though—people are gonna care for like—a day. Two, at most. Then you’ll be old news.” She smiled. “You’ve got nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I know.”

“Well, make sure your _boyfriend_ knows that, too,” Jess said, prodding his arm, and they grinned at each other before she stepped away down the hall.

~             ~             ~

_I know where Tyler is._  
_Meet in the parking lot at lunch_

The texts from Clay came right in the middle of lecture, but Justin didn’t see them until he was walking out of class. Briefly, he wondered how Jensen was able to get away with things like that.

As Justin made for the parking lot, he ran into Zach along the way. “‘Sup, man!” his friend called.

“Hey,” Justin said, and they slapped hands together briefly in greeting.

“Where are you headed?”

“I guess Clay didn’t text you?” Justin asked. “To the parking lot. He said he knows where Tyler is.”

“Shit,” Zach sighed, pulling out his phone. “No, he didn’t text me.”

Zach followed Justin and they went through the main entrance. The police presence had lessened slightly from the day before, but there were still cruisers parked around the school.

Justin spotted Clay and Tony talking beside Tony’s Mustang.

“—this is a good idea?” Tony was saying. He and Clay looked towards Justin and Zach as they approached.

“Hey, Zach,” Clay said, then looked toward Justin. “You told him?”

“We ran into each other on my way here,” Justin said.

“Yeah, thanks for the heads up, dude,” Zach chided.

“Sorry,” Clay offered, “I only texted Tony, Mackenzie, Cy, and Justin. I wasn’t trying to get everyone’s hopes up just yet.”

“Wait,” Justin said, “so you’re _not_ really sure where Tyler is?”

Clay gave him a pleading look as he shrugged. “I’ll explain when everyone gets here,” the boy went on, and Tony chuckled.

Cyrus and Mackenzie were the next ones to walk onto the lot.

“This better be good, Clay,” Cyrus grumbled, and Justin spotted Jess and Alex not far behind them.

“Looks like it’s a party,” Tony remarked.

“What’s going on?” Alex asked as he approached.

“Jesus,” Clay sighed.

“Clay has an idea where Tyler is,” Justin offered.

“What?” Cyrus exclaimed.

“So that’s why you and Zach were in such a rush?” Jess said.

“Hey, I only knew ‘cause I ran into Justin,” Zach clarified.

“We’re out of here,” Cyrus said, prompting his sister to walk.

“Cy, wait,” Mackenzie began.

“Cy, please,” Clay echoed, “hear me out.”

“Look,” Cyrus said, “I heard what went down with him and Montgomery. That doesn’t excuse what he tried to do.”

“I’m not saying it does,” Clay countered.

“I don’t want any part of this,” Cy went on.

“Look, he needs our help, all right?” Clay continued, stepping forward. “And I need yours, Cy. That place—that field, where you went shooting with him—”

“Wait,” Zach cut in, “you guys actually went _shooting?”_ He scoffed. _“_ Jesus Christ, talk about a red flag.”

“Hey,” Justin said, patting his arm, “come on.”

“Dude, I thought it was cool at the time, okay?” Cyrus defended. “It was just handguns. Nothing like what they found at his house.”

“I get it,” Clay interjected, “I get it. I’m not here to get you in trouble. I just need to know where that place is.”

“For what?” Cyrus asked.

His sister tugged at his arm. “Cy,” she began.

Cyrus looked at her. “Holy shit, Mack,” he said, “you can’t be serious!”

“I want to help,” she insisted. “I need to do this.”

“You don’t owe him anything!” Cyrus exclaimed. “You’re not responsible for him! This isn’t your fault. You didn’t push him to this.”

“But I didn’t _help_ either,” Mackenzie went on.

“Look,” Clay said, “this is no one’s fault.” He looked around at the group. “And this is all of our faults. Tyler needs help. He needs _our_ help. And Cy, he was your friend, too, wasn’t he? You don’t have to come, but please, just tell me where the field is.”

“Haven’t you been there, too?” Justin asked.

“Only the one time,” Clay replied, glancing at Justin, “and I didn’t bother paying attention where it was.”

“What makes you think he’ll actually be there?” Tony asked.

Clay glanced at Tony. “A hunch,” the boy replied, shrugging. “It’s all I got right now.” He glanced towards Zach, Alex, and Jess. “Which is why I wasn’t trying to involve so many people—in case this turned out to be for nothing.”

“Wouldn’t the police have already looked there?” Zach asked.

“They haven’t,” Alex answered. “They only just issued a warrant for him this morning. Now that they’re past the BOLO stage, they’re less preoccupied with securing the school.”

“BOLO?” Jess repeated.

“Be on look out,” Alex explained.

“Right,” Clay said, “so we’re running short on time. We gotta get ahead of this. If the police find him, there’s no telling if he’ll go willingly.”

When Cyrus didn’t say anything, Mackenzie said, “Cy, I’m doing this. With or without you.”

Her brother sighed. “It’s a place off of Mr. Barbour’s property. It’s a little ways from Tyler’s house.”

_“That_ was his name,” Clay said, mostly to himself, as if it should’ve been obvious. He pulled out his phone and started tapping away.

“We should all go,” Jess said, and everyone turned to look at her.

“We don’t know if he’ll actually be there,” Tony reminded her.

“But if he is,” Jess elaborated, “it’ll at least show we mean it when we say we’re there for him.”

“And—what exactly are we there to do,” Zach asked again, “if we find him?”

“Get him to turn himself in,” Clay answered, putting his phone away, “make a statement against Monty—what he did to him.”

“Could he even be ready for that yet, at this point?” Mackenzie asked.

“Unfortunately,” Clay responded, “he doesn’t have time on his side.”

When it looked like they’d all decided, Zach said, “I’ll drive, too.”

Alex and Jess drove with Zach, while Mackenzie and Cyrus rode with Tony, leaving Justin alone with Clay. As they all drove off the school lot, Justin felt his stomach rumbling—partially from hunger, but mainly from anxiety.

He imagined Clay was feeling similarly, but he pressed, anyway. “I think I heard Tony asking you this when we walked up, but, are you sure this is a good idea?”

Clay shook his head. “This wasn’t what I had planned. After I thought about what Scott said in the locker room earlier, about letting off steam, it hit me, but I couldn’t remember where that field was.

“I only asked Mackenzie and Cyrus there so she could help convince him to tell me where it was, and I was only intending to scope it out with Tony. Mackenzie later texted me that she wanted to go with us.”

“So, you texted me?”

Clay gave him a half smile. _“Well_ , I figured you’d be slightly annoyed if I left you out.”

Justin forced a laugh. _“Annoyed?_ I would’ve been _fucking pissed.”_

“Yeah, I thought so,” the boy said, suppressing a grin.

Justin thought for a moment. “All right, all right, I get your point, Clay. I’m sorry I went rogue and went after Bryce.”

“I know, I forgave you! That wasn’t my main point, though. That’s—that’s what boyfriends do, don’t they? What couples do? Take on crises together?”

Justin grinned. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Yeah, that’s what couples do.”

Clay reached out, and Justin met him halfway before squeezing each other’s hands.

It was a short ride to Tyler’s neighborhood, and after everyone parked along the street, they followed Cyrus as he led the group through the woodlands running through the suburb.

“So,” Zach said, “how do we know Tyler’s not armed? And that he won’t shoot at us?”

“He didn’t have anything else on him when I left him,” Tony answered.

“That—doesn’t mean he couldn’t have snuck back home,” Zach went on.

“Tyler—Tyler really hadn’t planned on coming back, you know,” Tony countered. “Besides, I think enough time has passed for him to cool off.”

They were quiet for a moment, with only the sounds of their footsteps rustling the leaves beneath them to disturb the silence.

“The police still found a practical armory at his house, though,” Cyrus commented.

“It wasn’t that much,” Alex said.

“Enough to land his parents in a lot of hot water, though,” Zach remarked.

“How far is it?” Jess asked, clearly trying to change the subject.

“Mr. Barbour owns a lot of land,” Cyrus answered. “I’m not exactly sure how far it goes, but, technically—once we cross it, we’re trespassing.”

Clay looked over at Justin, suddenly panic-stricken. “Shit,” the boy breathed.

Justin chuckled, patting his arm. “Relax, Clay. I’m sure no one here is gonna tell on me.”

Tony was looking back at him and Clay, and was also suppressing a smile. “He’s not the only one on probation, you know,” he said.

“Okay,” Clay admitted, “maybe I didn’t think this through all the way.”

“It’s better than what anyone else has come up with,” Tony offered.

“And you were right,” Justin said, “Tyler needs our help.”

They walked for a little while longer before Cyrus eventually came to a stop. He looked around at the rolling hills and at the field ahead of them, pensive. “I think—this is it,” he said slowly.

Clay was looking around, too. “Yeah, I think you’re right.”

“What are we looking at?” Mackenzie asked.

Justin glanced at the ground and spotted a few shards of broken glass littered about. “Did somebody clean up?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Clay said, “I think so. It looks different. Almost—like he was covering his tracks.” He cupped his hands around his mouth and began to shout. “Tyler!”

“Yo, Tyler!” Zach repeated, following Clay’s lead.

Everyone spread out and began calling Tyler’s name. After a few calls and shouts from the others, Justin asked, “Does anyone know how to track?”

“I do!” Mackenzie called. “Well, kind of! I haven’t done it since I was a kid.”

“Not since you were in Girl Scouts!” Cyrus added.

“Do you see anything?” Alex asked.

Mackenzie began examining the ground. “It’s, it’s tough—since we’re all walking around, but…” When she trailed off, she seemed to be following a few potential trails. In the meantime, everyone resumed calling out Tyler’s name.

“We want to help!” Alex shouted.

“We need to talk!” Clay added.

“Your parents are worried sick!” Jess called.

“They need your help, Tyler!” Tony yelled.

Justin and the others spread out a little further. After several minutes, everyone regrouped near Mackenzie, who shrugged. “All the tracks I can find are too fresh. They have to be ours.”

Clay seemed dejected, letting out a sigh. Justin grasped his shoulder, saying, “It was worth a try.”

The boy merely shook his head. “I figured—this would be too easy. _Way_ too easy.”

“Well,” Jess offered, “at least we got out of school for a bit.”

Zach had approached Alex. “You doing all right?”

Alex seemed to be shifting his weight between his cane and his leg. “I’m all right. This wouldn’t be the furthest I’ve walked with this.”

Another guilty look swept across Clay’s face. “I’m sorry, Alex.”

“Hey, I _chose_ to come,” Alex said. He glanced at Zach and Jess. “I was looking for any reason to get out of school—as much as the rest of you.”

A look of surprise transformed Mackenzie’s face. “Tyler,” she gasped.

Everyone else spun around. Tyler had manifested out of thin air, and he was standing beside a tree up the hill. It looked like he was still wearing the same outfit he had on from the night of the dance, but Justin recognized the state of his clothes all too well. With the extra dirt and grime on his sweater, pants, hair, and hands, there could be no mistaking where Tyler had been for the past few days.

“I heard all of you from a ways off,” Tyler croaked, “but I was waiting to see if the cops were behind you.”

Clay stepped ahead of the group. “Jesus, Tyler,” he began, “have you eaten anything? Or had anything to drink?”

“I’ve made do,” Tyler said, swallowing. “What do you want?”

Clay took another step towards him. “We came to find you.”

Tyler shrugged. “You found me.”

“This has to stop,” Tony said. “Things have gotten way too big.”

When Clay took another step forward, Tyler raised his sweater, revealing the handle of a pistol sticking out above the waistband of his pants.

_Not again._ Clay stopped and held up his hands as everyone else let out gasps and curses. Justin stepped towards Clay, grabbing his shoulder and holding him back. _Not again._

“If you’re here for the reason I think you’re here,” Tyler said, letting the hem of his sweater fall behind the gun, “you can forget about it.”

“Please, Tyler,” Clay insisted, “you don’t deserve to be out here like this.”

“I’m fine, Clay,” Tyler spat.

“Let us help you,” Clay went on, “We want to help you!”

Tyler chuckled. “Is that so?” He glanced around at the group. “Now that I’ve shown you what real power looks like— _now_ you wanna help?”

“We wouldn’t be here if we didn’t,” Jess said.

“We heard what Monty did,” Zach added. Tyler seemed to cringe. “We wanna make him pay. Him and Bryce.”

_“You think that’s why I fucking did it?”_ Tyler screamed. Justin gripped Clay’s shoulder harder as the boy flinched. “Just how _clueless_ are you?”

Mackenzie stepped forward. “Mack,” Cyrus said, but she took another step.

“Ty,” she began, tears welling in her eyes, “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t!” Tyler cried out, looking away as he balled his hands into fists beside his head. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“I’m sorry,” Mackenzie repeated, closing the gap between herself and Tyler. “This isn’t over—whatever you’re thinking. I don’t understand—of course, we don’t understand—and we won’t understand until you talk to us.”

Tyler sniffled. “You wanna know?” he asked. “You wanna know why I did it?”

“Only if you want to tell us,” Mackenzie went on.

“What do you care, anyway?”

“I care,” Mackenzie insisted.

“What happened to you,” Clay cut in, “was wrong. It shouldn’t have happened. I know it might not seem like it, but there is still a way out of this. We’re just running out of time.”

“Your parents need you,” Tony said. “You don’t have to tell us why, but the police need to know.”

Cyrus stepped beside his sister. “I’m sorry I pushed you,” he said, “I’m sorry I pushed you away. It’s gonna be a rough road, but you can still come back from this, man.”

“I already tried that once,” Tyler scoffed. “Look at all the good that did me.”

“That wasn’t your fault,” Alex said. “There isn’t a quick fix for the stuff that really matters.”

Tyler shook his head, then seemed to think for a moment. “What’s the point?” he demanded. “I go to the police, turn myself in. Make a statement. Who’s to say _anything_ will be _any_ different—this time?”

“Because this is about you,” Clay answered, “and you’re not alone this time. We are here to help you. We are going to make sure things are different—this time.”

“We let you down,” Zach added. “We’re learning from our mistakes. Or at least, we’re trying to.”

“What if I don’t go?” Tyler asked. “All of you really going to try to make me?”

“No one here is going to make you do anything,” Clay assured, “but coming with us—it’s the best thing for you.”

“The police are going to find you,” Alex said. “You can’t hide forever.”

“Who says I can’t?”

After a moment, Justin said, “Trust me, Tyler, you don’t wanna go that route. You don’t wanna—be on your own, like that.” He swallowed. “If I had to choose between the streets, and prison again, I’d choose prison.” Clay looked at Justin, and he tried to ignore the look of pity that transformed the boy’s face.

Tyler eyed him and Clay. “You haven’t let go of him this whole time,” Tyler remarked. “I take it you don’t hate each other anymore.”

“I never hated Justin,” Clay responded quickly, “and no one here hates you, Tyler. We all care for you.”

Mackenzie took another step towards Tyler and reached towards him. He eyed her hand for a moment, before directing his gaze towards her. “Come with us,” she said quietly. “Please.”

Gradually, Tyler opened his hand, and after a moment, he reached across—taking her hand.

“Okay.”


	5. Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Justin, Clay, and the others bring Tyler home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating goes up for this chapter.

As they walked out of the woodlands, Clay pulled out his phone.

“Mom, we found him,” he said after bringing the phone to his ear. “We’re taking him back to his house.”

Justin eyed Tyler behind them, who didn’t seem to react. He just kept holding Mackenzie’s hand as they walked. Once they reached the cars, she and Tyler rode with Justin and Clay while the others shuffled accordingly into the other two cars with Zach and Tony.

It was a short drive to Tyler’s house, but both of his parents were already outside by the time Clay pulled in front of their house. They approached the car quickly, and Tyler’s mom was in tears as Tyler stepped out of the car, but she nevertheless pulled him in for a desperate hug as Mr. Down brought his arms around them both.

Once Clay stepped out of the car, Justin followed his lead, and he nodded towards his boyfriend as their eyes met before they and the others behind them stepped out to watch the reunion unfurl before them. Tyler embraced his parents for several moments, sobbing with them, and his parents continued to hang onto him as sirens began to sound in the distance.

The first police cruisers pulled down the street minutes later. Deputy Standall was one of the first cops to arrive on the scene, and Tyler raised his arms—revealing his gun—before surrendering to the police. He was silent as Standall handcuffed and Mirandized him before placing him in the back of one of the police cruisers. As they stood by, Mrs. Down continued to sob as Mr. Down embraced her tightly against him.

Justin stuck close to Clay as the other officers took statements from everyone. Maybe he was just being paranoid, but as they sat on the hood of the car, Justin couldn’t keep his heart from racing in his ears. He kept bracing for the moment when one of the cops would slap cuffs on Clay, and stick him in the back of the cop car next to Tyler. It wasn’t until the police cars finally drove off when Justin felt his anxiety leveling off, leaving only the hint of a craving behind.

Tyler’s parents began to approach Clay, who stood as he saw them coming and seemed to take in a deep breath.

“Thank you,” Mrs. Down said, tears still welling in her eyes, “thank you so much—for finding him.”

Clay shook his head. “You—really, you don’t need to thank me. Dennis is on his way personally to the police station. He’ll be able to do way more than I ever could.”

Mr. Down squeezed Clay’s shoulder. “You saved our son,” he said. “Don’t sell yourself short. We could never repay you for that.”

Mrs. Down hugged Clay, and Justin smiled as the boy embraced her back. After Tyler’s parents got into their car and drove off, Justin regrouped with Clay and the others.

“Well,” Cyrus began, “as potential shit-shows go, I’m happy to see that went down the way it did.”

“What happens with Tyler now?” Mackenzie asked.

“My mom has a lawyer meeting Tyler at the police station,” Clay answered. “Dennis Vasquez—the prosecutor from the school trial—he’s taking on Tyler’s case, pro bono.”

Nods and remarks of approval spread throughout the group. Tony patted Clay’s arm. “You did good, Clay,” he said.

As Clay blushed, Justin suppressed a grin. “I think,” the boy said, “we’ve just been _extremely_ lucky.”

“What do we do now?” Zach asked. “Should we go to the police station with them?”

“No,” Alex said, shaking his head. “Tyler’s not getting out today. No matter how good a lawyer Dennis is.”

They decided to meet at Rosie’s for a late lunch, after Clay told everyone his mom would contact the school, and as they all gathered across two dining booths, Justin remarked it was almost the after-party they should’ve had after the dance.

“Better late than never!” Jess offered.

Once they’d eaten, Cyrus and Mackenzie left first, opting to walk home. Shortly afterwards, Tony offered to give Jess and Alex a ride, leaving Zach with Justin and Clay. As they finished their smoothies, Clay’s phone rang, and he quickly announced that it was his mom before stepping away from the booth.

Justin watched Clay walk away to take the call. When he looked back at Zach across the table, they burst out laughing.

“What a crazy fucking few days, right?” Zach said.

“Totally,” Justin agreed.

Zach took another sip of his smoothie through his straw. “You remember what you said at the dance? About—being sorry that, that I couldn’t talk to you?”

Justin cleared his throat. “Yeah.”

“That’s—it wasn’t really on you. You know that, right?”

“Well,” Justin said, shrugging, “it was on both of us, I guess. Still—with the stuff with your dad, I should’ve tried harder.”

Zach shook his head. “You had your shit, too. It was what it was. Let’s not dwell on it. Let’s keep our eyes forward, dude. Not back.” His gaze shifted across the diner, and Justin turned to see him looking at Clay as he spoke on the phone.

“Speaking of—moving forward,” Zach went on, “you know I’m—here for you, right? For, for whatever—if you need to talk—or if there are, are any new developments in your life…”

Feeling his cheeks burn, Justin forced a grin as he let out a deep breath. “What have you heard?”

“Nah, man,” Zach said quickly, “I haven’t heard anything.” He cleared his throat. “I mean, I _know_ you, and I’ve seen how you’ve been with Clay lately—but, but I don’t want to assume…”

Justin burst out laughing before turning his gaze towards the table. “Fuck, dude. Am I that obvious?”

“No,” Zach insisted, “no, not at all. Like I said, I know you, and I want you to know you can tell me anything. I just thought I’d—put it out there.”

Justin was ready to speak again when Zach looked over once more to signal Clay’s return to the table. “Sorry,” the boy said as he sat, “it looks like Alex was right, and they’re gonna continue to hold Tyler, but—he’s gonna be arraigned tomorrow.”

He looked towards Justin. “It looks like Scott came through, though, and the two guys who were there with Monty came forward. If Dennis is able to convince Tyler to make a statement, they should have enough to issue a warrant for Monty’s arrest.”

“Wow,” Justin remarked.

“Has the news broken, yet?” Zach asked, pulling out his phone.

“I don’t think so,” Clay answered, “but Mackenzie did say she was gonna post that Tyler was safe, didn’t she?”

“I think so,” Zach said.

“It’ll be all over the news tonight, then,” Clay went on.

“I wonder how they’ll try to spin it,” Justin added.

They finished the last of their smoothies before parting ways with Zach. As Justin got into the car with Clay, he reached for Clay’s hand as it moved to start the car.

When Clay looked at him, Justin asked, “How are you?”

Sighing, the boy lay back against the seat. “I’m okay. I think.”

“You sure?” Justin pressed.

Jensen was silent for a moment. He looked over at Justin. “Do you think I did the right thing?”

“How do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” Clay said, shrugging. “I guess—do you think I should have said all those things to Tyler? That things would really be different this time?”

“Well, it worked, didn’t it?”

Clay bit his lip. “Yeah, I suppose it did.”

Justin grasped his shoulder. “Come on, you were pretty much trying to talk him off a cliff.”

“I know, I just—it still feels like lying. I mean, look at Hannah and the school, with Jess, with Bryce—and with you. What right did I really have to say things would be different?”

“Well,” Justin said, grinning, “you got your mom involved this time.” Clay laughed. “This,” Justin went on, “this is _another_ thing, one after the other, with this school, and they just can’t sweep it under the carpet this time.

“You made a big difference today, Clay. There were no easy choices, but of all the possibilities, I think this was the least shitty way things could’ve gone down. Just as Cyrus said.”

Clay gazed at him for a moment. He then leaned over and brought Justin in for a kiss—a long, deep, and warm kiss. When they parted, Justin grinned at Clay.

“What was that for?”

His boyfriend smiled back at him. “I just needed to do that,” he said casually. Justin laughed.

Clay started the car and began driving away from the diner.

~             ~             ~

Justin and Clay drove back in mostly companionable silence, letting the radio play on in the background in between small talk. The skies finally seemed to be clearing up, and by the time they got back to the house, Justin saw sunlight breaking out from behind the clouds.

Justin had wondered if he’d been imagining it, but Clay had seemed to be in a much better mood as they returned from Rosie’s. The boy had had the hint of a smile nudging at his cheeks as he drove, and after they entered the house, Clay seemed to have a slight spring in his step as Justin followed him up the stairs.

Once they’d made it to Clay’s room, Clay hung back by the door to let Justin enter before shutting it behind them. As Justin set his backpack down by the couch, he heard the click of the doorknob as Clay locked it.

“So,” Clay began, setting his book bag by the door and slipping off his shoes. Justin managed to keep a straight face as he noticed his boyfriend’s cheeks reddening.

“So,” Justin echoed, also taking his shoes off.

“We’ve, we’ve got the house to ourselves for—for a little while. For at least an hour or so.”

“Yeah,” Justin encouraged, suppressing a grin.

When Clay shifted his gaze towards the floor, Justin was sorely tempted to come at his boyfriend and bring their lips and bodies together, but that would’ve been too easy. Instead, Justin sat on the couch, and groaned dramatically as he spread himself across the cushions. He gazed back at Clay, who seemed stuck to the door as his cheeks continued to burn, but when the boy finally looked back at him, Justin offered him a smile.

“You were saying?” Justin prompted.

Clay burst out with a brief laugh. “What was I saying?”

Okay, Justin was convinced he was doing this on purpose, the sneaky bastard. He couldn’t help thinking back to that night when Clay stripped off his clothes—when he got naked, and started jacking off in front of him—and Justin wondered, where was that boy who knew exactly what he wanted? And who wasn’t afraid to go for it?

Shouldn’t Clay be more confident now, not less? If he wanted sexy time, should he still be embarrassed, now, to ask for it?

Justin felt his cock nudging slightly against his jeans as he watched the boy lean against the door.

“What’s on your mind, Clay?” Justin ran his thumb beneath the waistband of his jeans.

“What do _you_ think’s on my mind, Foley?” the boy responded, coy.

_Mhm_. There was just something in how his boyfriend said his name that made even more blood rush down to his crotch, but Justin held firm. He was gonna get Clay out of his shell—especially after how much of a badass he’d been that day.

“I’m not a mind reader, Jensen.”

“Right.” His boyfriend smirked.

Okay, so it was gonna be a game of who wanted it more. Got it. He could play this game.

“Tell me what you want,” Justin cooed.

“Tell me what _you_ want,” Clay repeated.

Justin stuck his hand underneath his shirt, letting his midriff become exposed slightly. “I’m getting really hard,” Justin uttered.

“Me too.”

_Oh God._ Justin swallowed. “I’m gonna start without you—if you don’t come here.”

“Fuck,” Clay sighed, and he sprang across the room before leaping on the couch on top of Justin. “Fine,” he said with a grin, “you win this time, Foley.”

“I mean,” Justin began, grinning up at him, “if you don’t _want_ to…”

His boyfriend responded by smashing their lips together, and Justin couldn’t help the moan that escaped him as the contact sparked chills throughout his body. Clay braced himself against Justin’s chest, and the weight of his boyfriend on top of him only made his erection harden desperately against his jeans. Justin wrapped his arms around the boy, grasping behind Clay’s neck and along the small of his back.

His lips tasted sweet, no doubt from their smoothies earlier, and Clay was definitely not shy with his tongue, taking much more of a lead as they made out than Justin had expected, but welcomed. As Justin felt the heat continue to rise inside of him, Clay only upped the pressure and began to grind his crotch against him.

_Fuck_. Justin nearly cried out, but it had been suppressed by Clay’s warm tongue and soft, silky lips. If his boyfriend kept going like this, there was a solid chance Justin was gonna explode. Of all the role reversals so far, this had to have been the most striking—Clay Jensen, after turning him on so much, had reduced Justin to a horny preteen boy who couldn’t hold his load.

Justin nudged Clay upward, and as they sat up, he pressed the boy against the couch, flipping their positions. Clay gaped at him in surprise, then grinned. Justin could only groan, stretching his neck upwards before gazing back down at the boy.

“Oh my God, Clay,” Justin breathed, “you’re so fucking sexy.”

“Yeah?”

“You’ve got me so turned on,” he went on, his cock throbbing.

“Good,” Clay sighed.

He leaned into the boy, and kissed beside his ear.

“I wanna suck your dick,” Justin whispered.

His boyfriend merely let out a low moan. “Fuck, yeah.”

Justin prompted him upwards, and when Clay sat up, he drew the boy’s t-shirt over his head and tossed it on the floor, revealing his beautiful torso. Likewise, Clay pulled Justin’s shirt up and over his head before running his hands down Justin’s chest, and across his stomach, before hooking his fingers in the belt loops of his jeans.

As he gazed up at Justin, Clay breathed, “Fuck, you’re beautiful.”

Justin grinned in response before nudging him back against the couch. He kissed Clay a few more times before working his way down Clay’s chest, and as Justin shifted down the couch to get at a better angle, Clay shifted upwards in return to make room for him. Justin unbuckled the boy’s jeans, and promptly undid the zipper to reveal Clay’s erection straining against his boxer briefs. Justin looked up at Clay, meeting his eyes as his boyfriend gazed back down at him, before tugging at his jeans and pulling down Clay’s underwear in one smooth motion.

Once the last of Clay’s clothes were on the floor, Justin briefly savored the sight of his naked boyfriend before leaning down and running his tongue across Clay’s erection. As the boy moaned with the action, he spread his legs apart, and Justin licked across the boy’s shaft again before wrapping his lips around Clay’s cock. “Oh god,” Clay sighed, and Justin began to suck and work his way down the shaft.

As Justin went down on him, the sensation of his boyfriend filling his mouth made Justin realize he’d been hungry for it ever since the night he’d first done it. Clay moaned and writhed beneath him, making Justin’s own cock throb in sympathy. As he bobbed his head, letting Clay’s cock glide across his tongue, Justin managed to undo his own jeans and zipper—just to relieve some of the tension stifling his dick.

Justin felt Clay grasp his head and run his hands through his hair. “Fuck,” Clay gasped, prompting Justin to slow down, “I’m close.”

Okay, maybe he had been a little too eager to start with. Justin let Clay’s cock slip from his mouth.

“I’m sorry,” Clay went on.

“Hey, hey,” Justin said gently, immediately sliding up towards Clay, “it’s okay. It’s okay! Don’t be sorry,” he went on, grasping Clay’s cheeks.

“I wish I could last longer for you,” Clay uttered.

“It’s okay,” Justin repeated. “Honestly, it was more me—I got really excited. I could honestly blow any second.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Take off the rest of your clothes,” Clay said, and Justin quickly obliged. “I wanna feel you on top of me.”

After sitting up to free himself from his own jeans and underwear, Justin dropped the rest of his clothes on the floor before lying on top of Clay, and they moaned in unison as their slick erections met, the coolness of their pre-come and saliva together sending chills throughout Justin’s body. Clay braced himself against Justin, and as Justin began grinding against him, Clay cried out with another _fuck yeah_ and _oh my god._ Justin pressed their lips and mouths together once more, and he relished the heat that exploded inside of him as their bodies seemed to spark with every point of skin contact between them, from their lips, tongues, and hands down to their stomachs, erections, and thighs.

Clay’s moans became more insistent—more urgent—as Justin continued to grind against him, and when the boy seemed to cry out _fuck_ , he grabbed Justin’s erection and began to stroke him desperately—and that was all Justin needed to blow. He parted from Clay’s lips suddenly and cried out as the orgasm shook him, and he let out a long moan as the sensation ricocheted throughout his body and as he felt his cock pulse involuntarily with his come.

As he continued to milk Justin’s cock, Clay moaned along with him, their foreheads together, inhaling each other’s hot breaths. Once their orgasm seemed to settle, Clay brought his hand up, which was slick with Justin’s come. As the boy eyed his hand, Justin laughed.

“Clay, you don’t—”

Jensen responded by licking his hand, which made Justin burst out laughing again.

“What?” the boy asked.

“You’re fucking crazy, Clay,” he replied, then drew in for another deep, long kiss. With tongue.

When they parted, Clay smiled back at him. “I just wanted a taste,” he said innocently.

Clay shifted slightly, letting Justin rest on the couch beside him. Justin brought his arms around the boy, holding him close. “You’re so fucking amazing,” Justin remarked.

Jensen wrapped his arms around Justin. “You’re pretty amazing, too.”

Justin exhaled deeply. “It’s been so long—since I’ve been that turned on.” He chuckled. “You act all shy and innocent, but you know you’re sexy.”

Clay laughed. “I’m glad you think so. That makes one of us, at least.”

“Hey,” Justin said, squeezing him, “you are one sexy motherfucker, Jensen. You better believe it.”

“Mhm,” the boy uttered, and nestled closer to Justin. For a while, they held each other, and Justin savored the quiet serenity of their moment together as he listened to the boy’s breaths. With nothing between them at that moment, it was a level of intimacy Justin had only felt once before, and had never expected to feel again.

He was so goddamn lucky to have Clay.


	6. Let it Be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Justin helps the Jensens prepare dinner before he and Clay decompress after a long day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like a lot of Netflix series "indulge" in a way that novels do and normal TV shows and movies don't. I suppose if they can do it, so can I, haha...

Clay’s dad loudly proclaimed that he was home. Justin and Clay jolted awake after hearing Matt downstairs and gaped at each other in panic. They must have both dozed off.

“Shower,” Clay blurted, and Justin nodded, prompting the boy to go first. After Clay sprang for the closet, he pulled out a towel for himself before tossing another towards Justin, who quickly wiped himself off before pulling his shirt and underwear back on. Clay slipped out of the room, shutting the door behind him, as Justin gathered Clay’s clothes from the floor and shoved them into the closet. He then hopped back onto the couch and yanked his jeans back on before lying down and pretending to nap.

As Justin had anticipated, Matt came up and knocked on the door a short time later. Justin looked up to see him enter the room.

“Hey Justin,” he greeted, and gestured over his shoulder. “I take it Clay is in the shower. You mind giving me a hand with the groceries?”

Justin sprang up. “Yeah, no problem,” he said quickly, slipping on his shoes again. “Of course.”

He followed Mr. Jensen downstairs. As they each retrieved a brown bag from the car, Matt said, “I figured we were about due for a break from takeout, tonight.” They went inside, and he went on, “Lainie will be home late, but she did mention your and Clay’s—off-campus adventures.”

Justin set his bag down at the kitchen table. “Yeah,” he said, feeling his face burn. “Today was definitely—an eventful day.”

Matt smiled, and patted Justin’s shoulder. “Can’t wait to hear all about it.”

After retrieving the rest of the groceries from the car, Justin helped Matt begin to organize the food and ingredients, which included ground beef, onions, boxes of pasta, jars of tomato sauce, lettuce, and more. Clay came down right as Justin was sticking the last of the perishables in the fridge.

“Wow,” the boy remarked, “hey dad. What’s on the menu for tonight?”

“Hey kiddo,” Mr. Jensen replied. “Well, I just had this craving for lasagna today, so I figured, why not?”

Clay looked towards Justin. “Shower’s free, by the way.”

Justin managed not to grin. “Thanks.”

He let Clay take over and went back upstairs to shower. After stepping inside the bathroom and stripping off his clothes, Justin couldn’t help but marvel at how close things had been—not only with Matt just now, but with Tyler, too. As he turned the shower on and stepped inside the bathtub, Justin realized how right Clay had been—they had been really, really lucky the entire day. With the warm water streaming down his body and soothing his muscles, Justin suddenly found it very easy to believe that things were truly on the up and up.

Justin finished showering, quickly dried off, and dressed again before heading back downstairs. Clay and his dad were halfway through the first layer on the lasagna, and Justin watched them finish it before chipping in, freeing Clay to start mixing the salad.

After Justin finished sprinkling the shredded cheese on the final layer, Matt said, “I think I’ve got it from here, boys. Thanks!” As Clay and Justin made to leave, Matt went on, “Oh, Lainie said your teachers would be sending assignments, so be sure to check your e-mails.”

“Got it,” Clay said as Justin chuckled.

They went upstairs and started working, with Clay at his desk and Justin at the couch, as usual. Justin knew Clay took his homework seriously, so he tried to appear studious in front of the boy. Not that he was sure Jensen was really paying attention to him.

“How’s the physics coming?”

Justin looked up. Clay kept his focus on the notebook before him. Justin figured the boy had picked up on how far homework was from his mind.

“Fine,” Justin said.

“Well, I had Schaffer last semester. Her instructions can be a little—convoluted at times.” He glanced over at Justin. “I’m happy to help.”

Justin began rubbing his face and sighed. “Who thought it was a good idea to throw letters and numbers together and call it math?”

Clay grinned and stood up, taking his notebook with him as he made for the couch. “Here, let’s take a look.”

“No,” Justin insisted, shaking his head, “You got your own shit. Lemme work on mine.”

“Don’t worry about me,” Clay said as he sat before Justin. “I’m pretty much done. At this point, I’m just working ahead.”

Justin chuckled. “Jesus, Clay.”

The boy rolled his eyes. “Yes, I’m a nerd. You knew what you were signing up for.”

“Yes, yes I did,” Justin said, grinning.

They got through about two-thirds of Justin’s work by the time the scent of baking lasagna reached the attic.

“God, that smells fucking amazing.”

“Yeah,” Clay agreed, regarding him for a moment.

Clay’s dad called them down not too long afterwards. Lainie came through the front door just as the three of them were setting the table.

“Wow, that smells incredible,” she remarked, shutting the door behind her.

“You’re just in time!” Matt said, walking over to greet her. Justin watched them hug and kiss before looking back at Clay, who’d been watching Justin watch his parents, and they laughed as Justin felt his cheeks burn.

Clay’s mom went upstairs while the three of them finished setting the table. Justin helped serve the salad as Clay sliced the bread, and Mrs. Jensen returned to the dining room right as Matt was bringing the lasagna to the table. After gathering around the food, Mr. Jensen began serving the lasagna, and Justin couldn’t remember the last time he’d ever been so hungry for a meal.

Hungry, yes. But not for any particular food. Not like this. He’d obviously had meals with the Jensens before, but this was the first time he’d ever been so involved in the preparation. And for a meal that didn’t involve a microwave or toaster oven. Or frozen food.

So this was what it was like, for real. Dinner—as a family.

Justin noticed Clay looking at him, and the boy quickly steered his eyes back towards the table. Justin wasn’t surprised. His boyfriend had been looking at him the whole day. In more ways than one. Justin could only wonder—just how transparent had he, himself, become?

As they dug in, Clay filled in his parents on the full details of the day with Tyler. Matt seemed to be impressed by his son’s deductive skills, while Lainie became alarmed by the mention of the gun.

“You—left that little detail out,” Mrs. Jensen said.

“Sorry,” Clay admitted, “I wasn’t trying to freak you out. I mean, the police obviously took it.”

“Well,” Mr. Jensen cut in, “to save your mom from having to say it, you two took a big risk today. And your friends. Things could’ve turned out—a lot worse.”

“I know,” Clay sighed.

“Nevertheless,” Lainie said, after Matt winked at her, “Tyler’s parents called me, and wanted to express their utmost gratitude for what you did. So, while we admonish you from doing something like this again in the future, I still thank you for bringing me in on this. We’re proud of you.”

At that, Clay smiled, and shrugged. “Somebody had to do it.”

“Is Tyler still in lockup?” Justin asked.

“Actually,” Lainie answered, “I was going to mention, Tyler’s going to be committed to a forty-eight-hour psychiatric hold, instead, so his arraignment has been postponed.”

“Is that better—or worse?” Clay said.

“Better,” Mrs. Jensen replied. “This way, Tyler has a better chance of getting the help he needs. And a medical examination.”

“What about Monty?” Clay went on.

“No word on that front, I’m afraid. Dennis wasn’t able to get Tyler to speak to what happened to him just yet. But, the police are still looking to question him, last I heard.”

They finished dinner, shifting the conversation to topics far less heavy. Clay’s parents worked on packing the leftovers away, while Justin and Clay cleared off the dishes and loaded up the dishwasher. Afterwards, Matt invited them to catch an episode of Jeopardy, so they split into teams of two and spent a short while trying to guess the answers ahead of the contestants before Justin and Clay went back upstairs.

Clay went to brush his teeth first, giving Justin time to finish the last of his homework. When Clay returned, Justin left to do the same, and returned to find Clay coiled up on the couch, scrolling through his own phone.

“Hey,” the boy said as Justin shut the door behind him, “isn’t your recovery meeting on Thursday?”

Justin sat across from Clay on the couch. “Yeah, it is.”

“It’s a ways across the city. We might have to leave right after school to make it on time.”

Justin shrugged and cleared his throat. “You, you really don’t have to come with me. It’ll be a waste of time for you.”

“I don’t mind,” Clay insisted, shaking his head. “And your recovery is not a waste of time for me.” He straightened his leg and poked Justin with his big toe. Justin gave a brief laugh.

“You’re gonna be so bored, Clay. It’s addicts, only, so, you’re gonna have to find something else to keep you occupied.”

“I’m sure I’ll manage,” Jensen said, continuing to scroll through his phone. After a moment, he went on, “Looks like news has broken about Tyler.”

“How’s it looking?”

“Not—horrible, to be honest. It’s better than I was expecting, compared to how things were after the dance.”

“That’s a low bar to beat.”

“Yeah,” Clay agreed.

Justin shuffled in his seat slightly and brought the boy’s foot onto his lap. As he started to rub it, gently, Clay looked up at him, amused.

“Are you playing with my foot?”

Justin laughed. “I’m trying to give you a foot rub!” _I would give them to Jess all the time,_ he almost said, but decided against it.

Clay made an appreciative sound. “You’re good at a lot of surprising things.”

“Gee, thanks,” Justin said, grinning.

Clay shook his head. “Sorry, that came out wrong.”

Chuckling, Justin said, “I knew what you meant.” He shrugged. “I’ve just had a lot of chances to—figure out what makes people feel good.”

Clay set his phone down on the couch. “I take it Jess enjoyed foot rubs, too?”

Justin grew solemn. “Yeah, she did.”

The boy smiled at him. “She’s definitely missing out.” Justin burst out laughing and started working on Clay’s other foot.

After a moment, Justin said, “So, I think Zach knows about us.”

“What did he say?”

“Well, he—he was trying to get me to open up at Rosie’s today. He said he saw how I’ve been with you, and if I had anything new to tell him, that he’d be cool with it—if I decided to tell him, basically.”

Clay laughed. “I’m not worried about Zach knowing. I mean, Jess and Tony already know, and I’m sure Alex knows by now, too.”

Justin shook his head. “Jess said she hasn’t told him.”

“Well,” Clay went on, smirking, “if Zach figured it out today, Alex would have, too, I bet, by how you guard-dogged me today in front of Tyler.”

Feeling his face flush, Justin forced a laugh. “Sorry,” he said, shaking his head, “I didn’t mean to freak out on you like that.”

“It’s okay. You don’t need to apologize for that. Really, it was sweet.”

“So you’d be okay if I told Zach?” When Clay seemed to think for a moment, Justin went on, “You know, people are only gonna care for like—a day, or two, at most. Then we’ll be old news.”

The boy smiled at him. “You know, I’m not so concerned about people at school knowing about us. Or finding out. I just—I wanna be able to tell my parents, first. Officially. Because once we tell people, it’s gonna get back to them, one way or another.”

“You still think they wouldn’t be cool with us being together?”

Clay sighed. “So, my freshman year, when those rumors about me were at a fever pitch, my parents cooked a full meal together one night and sat me down at the dinner table, and started going on about how proud they were of me, how much they cared for me, and that nothing about me would ever change how they would feel, so on, and so forth.”

As he gave the boy’s feet a rest, Justin tried not to smirk. “Gee, Clay, that sounds terrible.”

“I know, I know,” Clay admitted, “but I wasn’t having it at the time. After they danced around it for most of the meal, I flat-out asked them what this was all about, and my mom just started going on about how I was reaching that age when I was going to start to feel new things, and discover things about myself, and I might come to find that some of those feelings may appear to run contrary to what everyone else around me is feeling—and finally, I just flipped out.

“She’s gotten a lot better about it in recent years, and especially since you’ve been around, but my mom—is a meddler. And it could be annoyingly suffocating at times. My dad, on the other hand, had always been kind of the opposite—and he’s gotten better about it in recent years, too—but it sometimes kind of felt like he didn’t care. Or maybe like he was letting my mom do the smothering for the both of them.

“So, when they came at me like that, things just kind of boiled over, and that’s why I flipped out. I was annoyed at my mom for trying to shove words down my throat, and my dad for acting like he cared. I know—I was dumb—and I was angry, so I asked them if they thought I was gay, denied it before they could answer, then stormed off to my room. They haven’t brought it up since.”

Clay looked away from Justin. “I must sound really ungrateful, don’t I?”

When the boy looked back at him, Justin shook his head. “I don’t think so. We were all hitting puberty then, and puberty sucks. And, I mean, I’m pretty sure all kids think their parents are the worst.”

His boyfriend continued to gaze at him. “What about you? Do you—do you think your mom is the worst?”

Justin looked down towards his own lap. “I don’t think I know the answer to that.”

Clay sat up, and shifted closer to Justin. “It’s okay, we don’t have to talk about that. I didn’t mean to pry.” He took Justin’s hand, and Justin met the boy’s eyes once more. “I hope you know,” Clay went on, “you can talk to me. About anything. I wanna know you, Justin—the good, and the bad.”

Justin managed a smile and swallowed, feeling his throat prickle slightly. “You trying to be like Zach, now? Or your folks?”

“Well, they had a point.” Clay took a deep breath. “The truth is, my mom left it up to me to broach the subject about—about your dad. With you.” He squeezed Justin’s hand. “How much, how much do you know about him?”

Forcing a laugh, Justin said, “Well, if you’re talking about the guy the school has on file, he’s not my dad. Not really. He’s just some guy my mom tried to swindle into paying child support.”

Clay gaped at him. “Is that what she told you?”

“Pretty much,” Justin replied, shrugging, “a long time ago. She could’ve been lying—she’s lied to me about other things—but I don’t think she’s lying about that. Honestly, she probably doesn’t know for sure, herself.”

Clay looked downward, shaking his head. “Christ, Justin. I’m so fucking sorry.”

“Hey, don’t be sorry for her,” Justin insisted. “It’s not your fault.”

“It isn’t yours either,” Clay responded, looking back at him. “I hope you know that.”

Justin shook his head. “I don’t want you to feel sorry for me.”

“I don’t. It’s not like that. It hurts, I’ll admit, but—but it’s not simply pity. It—it just makes me admire you more, given the person you are today, still.”

Justin squeezed Clay’s hand back. “If you’re worried about my so-called dad causing problems, don’t be. My mom never had the fight to get anything out of the guy, so if the court is gonna try to talk to him, it might be nice to know for sure, officially, that he’s not really my dad. Not that it’ll change anything.”

Clay let out a deep breath. “He may not respond, either. If he doesn’t, how would you feel about that?”

Justin shrugged. “No harm, no foul.” He looked back at his boyfriend and smiled. “I feel like we got sidetracked. So, we have to tell your folks first, before we tell anyone else?”

The boy laughed. “Not necessarily. I just—I’m pretty sure they’re going to object to our living arrangements once we tell them.” Clay opened his palms towards Justin and shrugged. “I mean, if you were a girl, they wouldn’t let you continue to share the room with me.”

“Well, if I were a girl,” Justin said, grinning, “that wouldn’t necessarily mean we’d be sleeping together.”

“Right,” Clay agreed, “so I don’t know if they might try to enforce this—heteronormative kind of role on us and make you sleep in a separate room, or whatever.”

“I feel like they would know we’d still sneak around that. Would they be weirded out by the fact that they’re about to make me legally your brother in a month? Like you were at first?”

“I don’t know,” Clay said, shaking his head. “It’s a possibility.”

“Well,” Justin said, patting the boy’s hand, “you know your parents better than I do. I’ll follow your lead on this, whatever you decide.”

Clay stood up, and started to lead Justin to the bed. “You should tell Zach,” he said, switching off the light. “I suppose, when my parents find out, they’ll find out. We’ll just have to cross that bridge when we get there.”

They settled into bed, and Justin began to spoon Clay as they brought the covers over them.

“As the Beatles put it,” Clay went on, yawning, “Let it be.”

Justin smiled, and nuzzled the back of Clay’s neck as the boy sang them to sleep. _Let it be, let it be. Whisper words of wisdom, let it be._


	7. Go Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Justin opens up to Zach and Alex, before getting a stark reminder.

_so just a heads up_  
_i’m pretty sure alex knows_

Jess’s texts came through as Justin was walking to second period.

_i kinda played dumb_  
_but after yesterday its kinda hard to deny it_

Justin grinned at his phone. _It’s okay_ , he messaged in response. _You can tell him. we’re not announcing anything yet, but Alex can know_

_EEEEEEEEEEE!!_ was Jess’s response, followed by a series of hearts and other celebratory emoji. Justin laughed.

The day had been trending closer to normal so far. Justin spotted far fewer police cars around the school, and it had seemed that there were more kids in class today than there’d been all week. Word had gotten out about Tyler, and people were definitely giving Justin eyes as he walked the halls, but at this point, he was fairly certain he was used to this by now, of being the subject of gossip and whispers in the hallway.

He understood it, why Clay was so hesitant to tell people. There was, quite frankly, too much for people to talk about. Given that there’d been no public summons to Bolan’s office that morning, Justin figured that Lainie had to have succeeded in smoothing things over with the school. That didn’t seem to stop the chatter, though, and Justin had at least hoped that some would want to try to get away from all the drama. He was used to being a freak, now, and to be seen as one for the foreseeable future. Clay, at least, could take credit for saving the fucking school. Not that he ever would.

All things considered, Justin and Clay being an item—should barely make waves. If only things like logic and reason prevailed over fear, uncertainty, and doubt.

As the exam scheduling continued, Justin’s lunch had again shifted for the day. He spotted Zach at a table with Alex in the cafeteria, and decided it was go time.

“‘Sup, guys,” Justin said, sitting beside Alex.

“Hey man,” Zach greeted, and he slapped hands with Justin across the table.

“Hey Justin,” Alex echoed. He glanced at Zach, then back at Justin. “Okay, can we just all agree—people are stupid?”

Justin chuckled. “Yeah, I’ll agree to that,” he said, opening his milk. “Why in particular, though?”

“Some people still think Clay tried to shoot up the school,” Alex went on.

“Seriously?” Justin exclaimed. He sighed.

“Apparently,” Alex explained, “the image of Clay being hauled off is a hard one to scrub away. I know it would’ve been a stupid idea, and still utterly futile, but we probably should’ve filmed our encounter with Tyler. Seeing is believing.”

“Yeah, and if things had gone sideways,” Zach remarked, taking a bite of his sandwich. “Still, though, people are gonna think what they wanna think.”

“I think the majority, thankfully,” Justin added, “know what happened, and know what Clay really did. At least from what I’ve heard.”

“Speaking of Clay,” Alex said, “how’s he doing?” Justin looked over at him, and Standall met his gaze with a slight smirk.

Feeling his face burn, Justin looked back down at his mashed potatoes and fiddled with his corn. “He’s good. He’s okay.”

Justin glanced up to see Zach also smiling at them, but his friend merely took another bite of his sandwich.

“So,” Justin began, but let himself trail off. Fuck, why was this suddenly so difficult?

“Oh, come on,” Alex eventually said, “spit it out, Justin. Jess already told me. Make it official, already.”

“Told you what?” Zach asked.

Seeing Zach suppressing a smile, Justin blurted out, “You know!”

Zach shrugged. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said innocently.

Grinning, Justin took a deep breath. Jesus, where to even start? “Clay and I,” he began, “are a thing. We’re—we’re together. Like—a couple. Together.”

“Wow,” Zach said, obviously feigning surprise, “that’s, that’s new. That’s news. When did this happen?”

“Well,” Justin started.

When Justin hesitated, Alex said, “At the dance. Jess walked in on him and Clay making out in the locker room.”

Zach laughed. “Smooth, Justin. I’m guessing all the Tyler drama didn’t put a damper on things.”

Justin laughed with him. “Yes and no. Really, it—it put things in perspective.”

Alex was grinning at them. “It’s funny, I tried to ask Jess about my suspicions last night and she acted like she didn’t know anything. And then earlier she finds me and she’s so giddy to come clean.”

“Yeah, sorry,” Justin said, “I kinda asked her not to say anything.”

“So, you’re making the rounds then?” Zach offered. “Taking things slow?”

Justin shrugged. “Yeah, I guess so. We’re just trying to—keep the pressure off.”

“Well, I’m happy for you, dude,” Zach said. “You guys deserve some happiness.”

Justin nodded at him. “Thanks, man.”

“Me too,” Alex agreed. “And obviously, Jess is over the moon for you two. I wouldn’t be surprised if she puts up banners all around the school when you two do announce it for real.” Justin laughed. “Don’t think that you two being bisexual makes you special, though,” Alex went on, grinning.

“Well,” Justin said, shrugging, “Clay’s bisexual. I’m—wanna be with Clay.”

“Do his folks know, yet?” Zach asked.

“That’ll be the next bridge to cross,” Justin answered.

They shifted the topic to more mundane subjects outside of Justin’s love life. On the Monty front, who was still missing, Alex mentioned the possibility of Monty’s dad being arrested or detained.

“I don’t know for sure, yet. I’ll try to find out more after school.”

As lunch ended and they parted ways, Justin left the cafeteria feeling a grin shape his cheeks. It felt really good to tell Zach and Alex, and it made all the stares and whispers throughout the day feel like background noise. He pulled out his phone to text Clay, and he got back a _Cool_ in response.

_Sure you’re okay with this?_

_Of course_ was the near immediate reply.

Unable to help himself, Justin sent a few heart emoji back. He hadn’t really meant to, but his thumb hit send before he could stop himself. Clay had never been one to dabble in emoji, so Justin put his phone away, not expecting another text so soon, only for it to buzz in his pocket.

As he looked at his phone once more, he felt his chest swell.

_Love you too_

Justin wasn’t quite sure what he himself had been trying to say, but he was so grateful Clay seemed to understand, regardless.

~             ~             ~

Justin was at his locker before the final period of the day when he spotted Clay coming towards him. Justin tried to taper his grin, but in the hours since lunch, smiling had just seemed to become more and more involuntary.

“Hey,” Justin greeted.

“Hey,” Clay echoed, also clearly trying to suppress a smile (and failing).

“What’s up?”

Sliding his thumbs behind his backpack straps, Clay came to a stop before him. “I figured I’d tell you,” he said, “you can take the car home after school. Scott asked me for help on his final paper in comp lit.”

“Today?” Justin exclaimed.

“Well,” the boy began, “your recovery meeting is tomorrow, and the first draft is due Friday.” Jensen shrugged. “It seemed like the best time. I mean, I know it seems last minute, but he asked me early this morning.”

Justin slid his physics book in his locker. “I’m not saying you need my permission or anything like that,” he began, but when he looked at Clay, he spotted Hannah standing right behind the boy. Justin nearly yelped.

Clay laughed briefly while Justin’s heart leapt in his throat. “Are you okay?” his boyfriend asked.

Justin coughed, and cleared his throat. “Yeah, yeah,” he insisted, “I’m fine. It’s, it just—seems kind of weird.”

“Why are you questioning this?” Hannah said. “This is your chance for a little privacy.”

As Clay made a face, Justin looked back in his locker to pull out his English notebook. “I didn’t think it was _that_ weird,” Clay said. “I mean, I do kind of owe him.”

Hannah continued to stand behind Clay, who was utterly oblivious. “For what?” Justin scoffed. “For him doing the right thing?”

Clay smiled, and started to lean against the lockers. “Are you disappointed you can’t have me all to yourself after school again? Like yesterday?”

Justin bit his lip as Hannah suppressed a laugh. “No,” Justin pouted. Clay laughed.

“Well,” the boy went on, lowering his voice, “I promise you’ll have me all to yourself tonight. If you don’t mind the wait.”

_Mhm_. Hannah burst out laughing as Justin felt his balls tingle. “Oh my God, Justin,” Hannah remarked, “you really do bring out the sexy in Clay. I’ve _never_ seen this side of him before.”

“So is Scott gonna drive you home, or what?”

“Yeah,” Clay answered, standing up straight. “That was part of the deal. We’re just gonna be in the library.”

Justin shut his locker and swung his backpack on his back. “Why don’t I join you, then? I could work on my homework, too.”

“You know exactly how long it’s been,” Hannah said.

Clay gave him another odd look that verged on amusement. “Justin, are you—jealous?”

“You’re really not selling this,” Hannah went on.

Justin gazed directly at her. “Clay, look!” He said, pointing behind the boy.

Jensen turned and looked right at Hannah, or rather, right in her direction—right through her—as she covered her mouth to suppress another laugh. “What?” Clay asked. A kid down the hall looked back at them, and Justin lowered his arm.

Clay turned back to Justin. “Okay, _that_ —was a childishly juvenile attempt at deflection. But,” Jensen raised his palms in a shrug, “I gotta get to history. We’ll talk about this later.” He gave Justin one last confused look before walking away. As Hannah stepped aside to clear the way for him.

Hannah looked back at Justin, who sighed as she regarded him with her arms crossed. “Really, Justin?”

He met her gaze for a moment before simply turning away. As he started to walk, he felt his skin crawl, like he was being followed.

Obviously, he _was_ being followed.

“One day, twenty-two hours, thirty-four minutes, fifty-two seconds,” Hannah said behind him.

“I know,” Justin uttered, feeling his heart drop. “I know.”


	8. Devil On My Shoulder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Justin tackles the voice in his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit more time has passed than I would have liked in posting this, alas. The theory behind the shorter chapters was more frequent updates, but I'm actually several chapters farther ahead in the series than I've actually posted and it's a tough one in the narrative! It takes some adjustment, hopping back and forth, but I suppose it's good practice to multitask, which is something I've never been any good at, truthfully, when it comes to fics...

Truth be told, Justin had been feeling the wisps of a craving since the early morning. Waking up beside Clay, getting ready with him, having breakfast with the Jensens—it had been more than enough to keep his mind off the stash that still resided in his duffle bag underneath Clay’s bed. But as the day went on, the image of his stash under the bed started to sing to him. When Justin tried not to hear it, his foot began to itch. On the inside. And it gradually spread up his leg, and throughout his body. It wasn’t something Justin could ignore, but it was bearable.

Then Hannah appeared to remind him exactly how long it had been since he’d last used.

The final bell for the day rang, so as Justin trekked the hallways towards his locker, he texted Clay, _Sorry for being weird earlier._ _Help Scott not fail English. I’ll see you at home_ and tried to cover it with a barrage of emoji kisses.

Three dots preceded a near-immediate response: _Lol no worries. See you soon_

Clay’s response was punctuated with a red heart emoji, and though it made Justin feel immensely better, it had no effect on his itch. Only one thing could help with that.

Justin exchanged what he needed from his locker before making for the parking lot. As he rounded the corner near the side entrance, he spotted Hannah leaning against the railing on the steps before him.

“So, it looks like you’re not gonna crash Clay’s date with Scott, then?”

Justin kept walking. As he passed her, she began to walk with him. “Wanna bet Scott has the hots for Clay?” she went on. “I mean, who wouldn’t?”

Justin pulled out his phone and brought it to his ear. “If you’re gonna haunt me,” he said, “you don’t have to be such a bitch.”

Hannah laughed. “Seriously, Justin? You think I _want_ to be here? And, you don’t need the prop. People already know you’re crazy.”

_Bitch_. Hannah laughed again.

“Go away,” Justin said, keeping the phone pressed near his ear.

Hannah ran out in front of him. “Hey! We’ve been through this. I can’t—because I’m not here, remember?” When Justin walked around her, she turned to keep following him. “And besides, who else is gonna stop you from doing to Clay what you did to me?”

Justin coughed, feeling the back of his throat burn as he crossed onto the parking lot. “I’m not going to do that to Clay,” he said into his idle phone. “I love him.”

“You loved Jessica, too,” Hannah said.

“Get the hell out of my head,” Justin hissed.

“I think you and I both know by now that’s not how this is gonna work.”

Justin reached Clay’s Prius and stepped quickly into the car. After shoving his phone back into his pocket, he gripped the steering wheel, trying to steady himself as he felt his eyes well.

“I learned my lesson, okay?” he said to himself. “I’m not gonna hurt Clay. He’s—he means everything to me.”

Justin looked towards the passenger seat to see Hannah sitting beside him. “If that were the case,” she said, “why use, still?”

“You know why.”

“No, I don’t—really. Justin—you went almost an entire _month_ without using. Why blow it—so close to the finish line?”

“I’m an addict, okay?” Justin said towards the steering wheel. “It’s not that easy.”

“Finally,” Hannah sighed, “some real truth out of you. So you can admit it to me—but not Clay? Someone who could _actually_ help you?”

Justin shook his head. “He can’t know,” he breathed, blinking a tear from his eye. “You said it yourself—I was so close, and I blew it. He wouldn’t forgive me. His parents… I can’t give them another reason to change their minds. I can’t—I can’t go back.”

He finally met Hannah’s gaze, and she seemed to regard him with sympathy. “I think you know that everything you just said—is the _complete_ opposite of what would actually happen.”

“No—what I do know,” Justin said, starting the car, “is that I wouldn’t be here having this conversation with myself if I just hadn’t gone so long without another hit.”

He shifted the car into reverse and started to drive. When he pulled out of the parking lot, he spotted Hannah in the back seat.

“Another deflection,” Hannah scoffed, looking out of the window. “Put in the work, Justin. Tell Clay the truth. Don’t let your vices control you.”

“They’re not controlling me,” Justin spat. “I just got too far off center. That’s all.”

“And how long is that gonna last?”

“I’ll figure it out.”

Hannah scoffed again. “What—with Ren’s horcrux hookup? Sure that’s a real thing? As real as platform nine and three-quarters?”

Justin had programmed the number in his phone. All he knew for certain was that the number worked, since it showed up with the Apple exclusive shit when he popped it into his contacts. He’d saved the number as Mom.

“I’ve got time,” Justin said. “I’m not doing it to get high. Only to get rid of the voices in my head.” He glanced in the rear-view mirror and met Hannah’s gaze. “And you.”

“You’re already rid of me,” she retorted, shrugging. “I’m dead, remember?” Justin focused his attention back on the road. “And again,” she went on, “we both know that’s not how this works.”

As Justin turned onto the residential streets leading towards the Jensens’ home, he noticed a dark hatchback turn onto the road behind him as he glanced in the rear-view mirror.

“That car has been following us since Lockview,” Hannah said, now in the front passenger seat.

“I know.”

“Think it’s Monty?”

Justin kept driving. Monty had no reason to come after him, or Clay. Unless Bryce had sent him.

“Maybe if his dad’s been arrested, for real?” Hannah went on, “Like Alex mentioned?”

“It doesn’t make any sense,” Justin insisted.

As he neared the turn he would usually make to get to Clay’s house, Justin instead kept straight. The car continued to tail him.

“What about Seth?” Hannah asked.

Justin swallowed. “I doubt he’s back in town. Not after the police busted him, last.”

Hannah gave him a look. “And, what, you think he would just _forget_ about all that money you stole from him?”

Justin’s heart rate started to pick up as genuine panic started to swell inside of him.

“Lose him,” Hannah said.

Justin made the next turn for a detour around the block. The car made the turn as well, but started to drift farther behind. Justin sped up slightly, making another turn down a side street, then accelerated rapidly to cross the short street before making a left back towards the city streets.

After two other quick detours, Justin found the hatchback in the rear-view mirror no longer. He took a deep breath, willing his nerves to settle. When he reached Clay’s house, he pulled onto the driveway and parked the car. As he let go of the steering wheel, he found his hands to be shaking. He was sweating.

“On second thought,” Hannah said, and Justin looked to see her once again in the passenger seat, “maybe you should take another hit. You’re gonna need a clear head to take on what’s coming.”

Justin swallowed before stepping out of the car. He went in and straight upstairs, making for his duffle bag underneath Clay’s bed and skipping all formalities. He found his needle and bottle, which still had enough for at least two more doses, and pulled off his shoe and sock before sitting on Clay’s bed.

As he moved to inject, he found Hannah beside him, gazing at his foot. When she looked at him, she said, “Oh, don’t stop now on my account.” She shrugged. “I can’t stop you, remember?”

His hand was steady, but the nerves and muscles across his entire body began to tingle as the voice in his head started to scream _NOW_. He stuck the needle in between his bigger toes and pressed on the syringe, setting off a symphony of elation throughout his body.

Justin looked at the bed again. At the desk. And throughout the room. He waited.

Hannah was gone.


	9. Do the Math

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Justin opens up to Lainie, and he and Clay settle into a routine.

After packing up his stash and shoving his bag back under Clay’s bed, Justin had settled at the desk and started to work on his homework. For a while, as he tried burning through his physics problems, he was able to work in peace. As tough as they were, they were a welcome distraction from the calculation he was really trying to avoid.

How long his current supply would last.

If _x_ was the number of pills he had left, and _y_ was the amount of time between cravings, what was the angle of incidence his body would make to the ground when Clay comes home to find him using and throws him out the window?

Justin looked up to see a Prius pull into the driveway. He stood up, expecting it to be Matt, and was surprised to see Mrs. Jensen step out of the car. She was home early.

He sat back down at the desk, wondering if she had come home early for a specific reason, only to hear a knock on the door a short time later. “Justin?”

Springing from the chair, he went to answer the door. After opening it, he said, “Hey, Mrs. Jensen.”

“Hi Justin,” she greeted with a smile. “I thought Matt had given you that talk; you can call me Lainie, please.”

Justin grinned. “Sorry, yeah, he did.”

“I take it Clay’s not home?”

Justin shook his head. “No, he’s still at school. He’s helping—a friend—with his paper.”

Lainie nodded. “I see. It’s been a while since he’s tutored someone formally. Not since…”

_Since Jeff_. “It’s not a formal thing,” Justin replied, shrugging, “I don’t think.”

“Well, in any case, I wanted to speak to you,” she went on. “Did you have a moment?”

“Sure.”

They stepped inside the room and sat across from each other on the couch.

“Clay mentioned what you said about your father,” Lainie began, “and how he might—not actually be your biological father. Is that right?”

In any other instance, Justin would have skated by the question and offered as little of an answer as possible, but there was something about the way she was looking at him that made it hard for him to keep up that wall. She was still in her work outfit, so it was hard to deny her lawyer-mode demeanor, but even without really looking at her, Justin could tell—she genuinely cared. And she was really trying to get him to open up. On his terms.

“It—it was something my mom said one time when she was in one of her, her moods. I guess she could’ve been lying. She lied a lot—it took me a while to figure that out.”

“What did she say, exactly?”

Justin thought for a moment. “She was pissed,” he began. “I think—she was more pissed at the guy she was seeing at the time, but I had torn open my shoe walking home from school, and that made her even more mad. I think I was maybe eight or nine at the time. We got into kind of an argument how I should’ve been more careful, and how she couldn’t afford new shoes at the time—even though that pair had probably been over a year old.

“See, growing up, she’d told me that my dad lived in another part of the state, and that he was working to support us. But I think she only told me that to begin with because I’d mistaken one of her boyfriends as my dad and it scared him away. Anyway, that was kind of her thing—behave, make do, or else she would have to bother my dad, she would call him home, and if he had to come all that way, he’d whup me, I’d regret it, and so on.”

Justin shook his head. “It stopped making sense after I met Bryce, and I started to see how poorly we were really getting by. But anyway, when I asked her for new shoes, I kind of threw it in her face, ‘Why couldn’t my dad just send me new shoes?’ and she kinda snapped back, ‘He’s not really your dad. He’s just a name and an address so I could put you in school.’ She also said he never supported us and he was a vindictive loser, or something like that.”

“Was that the last time you spoke to her about him?” Lainie asked.

“Yeah, pretty much,” Justin replied.

“Well, he’s—he’s more than just a name and an address. He’s on your birth certificate. That isn’t something your mother can do unilaterally.”

Justin sighed. “If there was anything my mom was good at, it was getting the men around her to do what she wanted. I mean, keeping them around was another story. Or maybe she lost it because of the drugs. I don’t really know for sure. Given the number of men that have passed through our lives, I don’t think she really knows for sure. Like I said, she lied a lot, but I think—I think, when she was angry, she tended to tell the truth.”

Lainie regarded him for a moment. “What other things has she said to you—in anger?”

Justin shifted in his seat, letting a leg hang off the couch. “Just, just stupid—stuff. Like, like how ungrateful I was, how hard she tried for me. How much trouble I was. How much of a brat I was.”

That was far from the worst of it, but he figured he’d spare her from the full details of how badly his mother’s mood swings could go. Mrs. Jensen had to have a low opinion of her as it was.

Lainie reached over and took Justin’s hand, squeezing it. “She never should have said those things to you, Justin. You never deserved that kind of abuse. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to stir up painful memories. We, we just have an obligation, for your case, to reach out to this man, whether he truly is your father or not.”

Justin attempted a smile for her. “Do you have to?”

“Yes,” she said, giving a small smile in return as she sat back, “especially if there is any history of child support at all, or any attempts to recover child support payments.”

“I really doubt it,” Justin said, shaking his head, “unless it was when I was still a baby.”

“Dennis and I haven’t been able to locate anything on record so far, but I’m just trying to be thorough.”

Justin nodded. “I understand.”

Lainie seemed to contemplate him for another moment. “Clay seems to be doing much better now, since you’ve been back. How are you, Justin?”

He grinned. “I’m good, really. Better than I’ve been in a—really long time.”

“Good,” she said, smiling back at him. “Well,” she went on, standing up from the couch, “I’ll let you get back to your homework. If you think of anything—regarding your mother, or the man on your birth certificate—that might affect your hearing, come talk to me, or Clay, all right?”

“Okay,” Justin said, “I will.”

When Mrs. Jensen left the room, Justin decided to keep the door open and sat back at the desk. It was the most he’d ever opened up to anyone about his mom, including Jess. Bryce had seen a lot of it, so he’d never asked, and if Justin could avoid ever having anyone over to see his mom, he would.

His mom had done and said a lot of crazy, fucked-up shit. Justin had learned from an early age that she wasn’t like most moms, and explaining that to anyone was something he’d avoided for most of his life.

Justin understood why Lainie wanted to talk to him. This was her subtle way of getting him ready—of preparing him to face the court’s scrutiny. Again.

He inhaled deeply, then let out a slow breath. The Jensens were fighting for him. The least he owed them was his help. No matter how much it hurt.

~             ~             ~

Scott ended up dropping Clay off not long after Matt came home. Justin and the Jensens had dinner not long after that before Clay and Justin went back upstairs to execute what was quickly starting to feel like their nightly routine: homework, which sandwiched alternating trips to the bathroom for toothbrushing and a possible shower, followed by some downtime before bed.

When Clay returned from a shower, Justin decided to pause his physics problems, and when he returned to the room, he found his boyfriend checking over his work at the desk.

“I think I hate physics,” Justin said when Clay stood back up for him.

“It’s just math, really.”

“I hate that too,” Justin grumbled, settling back at the desk.

“Well,” Clay offered, leaning against the desk, “the thing about math—if you know the rules, the answer’s always there. It’s just a matter of finding the best fit for the situation.” He flipped back a few pages in Justin’s textbook. “For these,” the boy went on, “you gotta make sure you’re using the right formula.”

They migrated to the couch so that they could work more comfortably together. After a little while longer, with Clay’s help, Justin was able to start getting the same answers as the answer key in the back of the textbook. He had to admit—it did feel good to get things right—and he found himself gazing at Clay in appreciation.

Clay noticed as he finished going over the tangent over Planck’s constant again. “What?” he said, his cheeks reddening slightly.

“Nothing,” Justin said, shaking his head as he looked back at his notebook. “I just hope Scott appreciates how lucky he was to have you today.”

Clay laughed. “He was more stressed-out than anything. I think he just needed to bounce his ideas off of somebody, or to vent, really. His draft was really good.”

“Did he pay you?”

The boy gave a confused look. “No.”

Justin chuckled. “You should work that hustle. You got credit for tutoring Jeff, didn’t you?”

“Well, yeah,” Clay began, shrugging, “but—this was just a favor.”

“Your time is valuable, Clay. Don’t forget that.”

“Oh yeah? What are you gonna do for me, then? For my time—helping you?”

Justin looked up to see his boyfriend suppressing a smirk. Hannah was right—Clay could be so damn sexy when he wanted to be. Unable to help himself, Justin leaned over and gave the boy a long, deep kiss. After pulling back, Justin saw that Clay had become even more flushed.

“I think the better question is,” Justin uttered, “what _won’t_ I do for you?”

Clay burst out with a brief, airy laugh. “You haven’t finished your homework yet, Foley.”

_Uhm._ “Fine,” Justin huffed with a grin, sitting back. He only had three more problems, anyway.

As Justin continued working, Clay started looking through his phone. After a short while, he asked, “How’d it go with Zach, today?”

“It was hardly a big deal,” Justin answered. “Like I said, he pretty much already knew. Same with Alex—Jess had told him.”

Clay grinned. “Yeah, she texted me, too. It’s kinda funny. Well, I mean, I’m glad she’s supportive. I just didn’t think she would ship us _that_ much.”

Justin looked up at the boy. “Ship?”

“You haven’t heard that term?” Clay said, meeting his eyes. “ _Ship,_ like from _relationship?_ It’s an online term, like, to wanna see two people together.”

“Is it a nerd thing?”

Clay prodded him with his foot, making Justin laugh. “It is _not_ strictly a nerd thing.”

“Sounds like a nerd thing,” Justin said with a grin. Clay shot him one last playful glare before looking back towards his phone. “Have you thought more about how you might tell your folks?” Justin went on.

“Not really,” Clay replied. “But when it does happen, _we_ are gonna do it together. Because if I have to suffer through that, so do you.”

Justin laughed. “Okay, sir.”

After another moment, Clay said, “My mom mentioned that she spoke to you. I—I hope it’s okay that, that I told her. I mean, obviously, I’m not going to tell her _everything_ , but since it had to do with your adoption hearing—”

“Clay,” Justin interrupted, “don’t sweat it. It was fine.”

“I—I hope you know,” Clay went on, “if you ever want to talk about anything, I’m here.”

Justin met Clay’s eyes. “I know.”

They sat in companionable silence as Justin worked through his last problem. Once he finished his equation and punched in his calculation, he flipped to the back of the textbook—and felt a surge of joy fill his chest as he found his answer to be correct.

“Sweet Jesus,” Justin exclaimed. “I’m not a complete dumbass.”

“You’re so right,” Clay echoed. “Just a fractional one.”

Justin smirked at the boy, but he was too turned-on to think of a clever retort. Instead, he glanced towards the bed. “You’re lucky I like you so much, Jensen.”

In response, Clay leapt towards him for a kiss, and they made their way across the room and onto the bed without their mouths and hands separating from each other.


	10. Surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Justin gets a talk, and he and Clay break the news to someone unexpected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another relatively short chapter, but the next ones should mostly be longer. omg, am I gonna finish this part of the series before season 3 drops? Who knows??

Alex  
_Monty’s dad was indeed arrested yesterday_  
_But he posted bail_

Clay  
_Wtf?_  
_For what?_

Alex  
_Resisting arrest and disorderly conduct I think_

Clay  
_Does that mean no word still on Monty?_

Alex  
_For now_

Justin saw the texts come through while he was at lunch. With the continued exam scheduling, he found himself alone for the day, which was fine by him. As more kids seemed to show up for school, the attention paid to him seemed to diminish.

_Have the police talked to Bryce at all?_ Justin entered into the group chat.

He looked up to see Tony approaching his table with a lunch tray. “This seat taken?” Padilla asked, coming to a stop before him.

“It is now,” Justin said, then took a sip of his juice.

Tony sat, and they exchanged pleasantries about their relatively mundane days so far before Tony brought up Monty.

“Yeah,” Justin said, indicating his phone, “Alex was just texting me now.”

Tony took a bite of his pizza. “You think Bryce or his folks had any hand in springing him?”

Justin shook his head. “Impossible to say.”

“You thinking of paying him another visit to find out?”

When Justin looked at him, Tony smirked. Justin chuckled. “Clay tell you about that?”

“He did,” Tony replied with a nod, “but I don’t think it was such a bad idea, given how you kept your cool the first time.”

“All he’ll do is just lie,” Justin said, shrugging.

“Yeah,” Tony said, taking another bite of his pizza, “but you’ll know. Wouldn’t you?”

Justin glanced at his phone to see Alex’s response: _Yes. I don’t think anything came from it._

“That was Alex,” Justin remarked. “The police have already talked to Bryce.”

“I take it he slithered his way out of that one, too,” Tony scoffed.

“It looks like it,” Justin sighed. “Either way, Monty is too hot right now—I think Bryce sees that. He knows a liability when he sees one. I don’t think he has anymore reason to cover for Monty. But if he is, they’ll both hang. Eventually.”

As Tony looked at him, he seemed to be suppressing a smile. “You’ve certainly changed your tune. I didn’t think you’d be so keen on doing nothing.”

“Well, I couldn’t do anything today, anyway. I got my AA meeting.” At that, Tony laughed. “What?” Justin asked. “Clay ask you to keep tabs on me?”

“No,” Tony replied, shaking his head. “Clay is way too trusting to ever do something like that. Though, if you ask me, a little too trusting.”

So there it was. Justin swallowed without any food in his mouth. “You’re not a fan of me and him, are you?”

Tony drank from his soda. “Hey, I wouldn’t go that far, all right? Clay’s been through a lot, and so have you. I’m just calling it like I see it—if anyone is the heartbreaker in this relationship, it’s you.”

Justin averted his eyes towards his tray to keep from glaring at Padilla. “That’s not fair.”

“The truth rarely is,” Tony retorted. He raised his hands. “I’m not saying I’m not happy for you both. I think you could really help each other. All I’m saying—you hurt him, I’ll break your legs.”

When Justin looked back up at him, Tony was grinning at him. Justin managed a grin back. “Noted.”

They continued talking for the rest of lunch on relatively cordial terms, speculating on what might be to come for Tyler, and a little on Justin’s sexual identity. As he’d done with Jess, Justin remained fairly noncommittal, and Tony again brought up the term _pan._ Could that be it? Was Justin pansexual?

In any case, he respected Tony sticking up for Clay. Padilla had looked out for the boy in the past, so it made sense he’d be protective of Jensen. The clock was ticking, and the math didn’t lie. After the bell rang and as he and Tony started making their way from their table, Justin spotted Hannah against the wall across the cafeteria as he dumped his tray.

Yeah, he was screwed. People didn’t change.

Fuck that. Justin was different, now. His formula might have needed tweaking, but he was on the right track. He just needed to adjust his variables.

Because the last fucking thing the new Justin Foley was ever going to do—was hurt Clay Jensen.

~             ~             ~

Justin and Clay were walking up to their door when the boy pulled out his phone.

“Oh my god,” the boy uttered.

Justin felt panic spike into his throat. “What?”

Clay met his gaze with a slightly bewildered look. “It’s Skye.”

“Skye—Miller, Skye?”

His boyfriend nodded. “She wanted to talk. Apparently news about the school, and Tyler, made national news.”

When they both simply stood for a moment in front of the door, Justin asked, “Well, aren’t you gonna call her?”

Clay looked at him. “Should I?”

“Why wouldn’t you?” Justin said, shrugging. “You left on good terms, didn’t you?”

“Well, yeah, but—I haven’t heard from her since she left. I didn’t think I’d hear from her again.”

_Even while I was gone?_ Justin wanted to ask. Instead, he said, “You should talk to her.”

The boy glanced towards his phone. “How would that make you feel?” Clay asked.

Justin laughed briefly. “You don’t need my permission.”

Clay looked back at him. “Not what I asked.”

Smiling, Justin inhaled a deep breath and exhaled. “I would _feel_ better if you didn’t cut out people in your life who mattered to you—just because of me.”

His boyfriend nodded. “Okay, all right,” he said, keying into the door, “I’ll call her later.”

After they went inside, Justin stepped in front of Clay. “Nah uh,” Justin chided, “call her now! What are you waiting for?”

Clay smirked at him. _“You_ are just trying to stall going to your recovery meeting.”

“Dude, we’ve got plenty of time. And she’s not gonna bite your head off! She obviously still cares.” Justin started to make for the kitchen. “Besides, I’m kinda hungry. I’m gonna make myself a sandwich.”

He looked back at Clay, who was grinning at him. The boy started tapping his phone, then began walking towards the stairs as he brought the phone to his ear. As Justin entered the kitchen, he heard from up the stairs, “Skye? Hey, I got your text.”

Justin pulled bread from the pantry and ingredients from the fridge as he focused on tuning out Clay’s voice. They hadn’t yet talked about the logistics of privacy from each other, but this was clearly one of those moments. As he sat down at the table to eat, he decided to pull a Clay and reached into his backpack for his next reading assignment, _Heart of Darkness_.

He made it to about halfway through the first part when Clay came back down the stairs. The boy was holding up his phone towards Justin.

“See?” Clay remarked. “All the proof you need—Justin Foley, reformed intellectual.”

Justin couldn’t help the grin that swept across his face. “Clay, what are you doing?”

“That is _staged,”_ Justin heard through the phone’s tinny speaker as Clay approached him, “so, _so_ staged.”

“Justin,” the boy exclaimed, “tell Skye what you’re reading.”

He continued to eye Jensen skeptically. _“Heart of Darkness.”_

“See?” Clay said towards his phone. “And what has Joseph Conrad got to say so far?”

“Um,” Justin began, “the guy is about to sail for Africa.”

A laugh burst out from the phone. “The _guy.”_

“Marlow,” Justin spat.

“It’s okay Justin,” Clay said, patting his shoulder, “she gave me a hard time, too.” He tapped the phone and turned the screen towards them. When Justin saw Skye on the screen, she waved at him.

_“Hi Justin,_ ” she greeted coyly.

“Hi,” Justin greeted back, chuckling. It was not the Skye Miller he remembered—her hair was down, it had highlights of purple and orange, and what he could see of her outfit seemed to be a far cry from the perpetual goth looks he’d come to associate with her.

Clay surprised Justin by wrapping an arm around his shoulder. Skye went on, “So you’re responsible for Clay’s bisexual awakening, is that right?”

Justin laughed. “Um, I guess so.”

“I think you two are trying to pull one over on me. Of all the _shenanigans_ to happen after I leave— _boyfriends?_ No fucking way.”

“Is that really so hard to believe?” Clay cried out.

“Yes!” Skye exclaimed. “Clay, you _passed out_ getting half your fucking tattoo—”

“You said you weren’t gonna bring that up! And I got it finished!”

“—and you expect me to believe that you’re _dating_ Justin Foley now?”

“Okay,” Justin cut in, “why don’t we put all doubts to rest?” When Clay turned towards him, Justin leaned in for a deep, thorough kiss, filled with plenty of tongue. The boy seemed eager to play along, and their tongues wrestled for several moments as their lips danced.

When they pulled apart, Justin looked back at the phone to see Skye seemingly speechless. “Wow,” she eventually said. “Unfortunately, Amal isn’t here, so I can’t match that performance right now, but Justin—my most sincere congratulations. You succeeded where I couldn’t—you brought Clay out of his shell.”

“Skye,” Clay began, “come on.”

“No, no,” Skye continued, “seriously—that’s not a slight on our time together. You have to admit—kudos are deserved—for such a _monumental_ accomplishment.”

Justin laughed as Clay said, nodding rapidly, “Thanks. Thanks for that!” He stepped away from Justin. “Anyway, we really gotta get going now. Bye!”

“Wait, wait!” Skye said, even though Jensen had made no move to hang up. “Sarcasm aside—it wasn’t my plan to never speak to you again. I’m glad you’re doing so well, Clay, all things considered. I’m happy for you.”

“I’m happy for you too,” Clay said.

“Don’t be a stranger!”

“I won’t. You, too.”

“Bye Justin!”

Justin said goodbye and Clay ended the call. When he looked back at Justin, they grinned at each other “Dude,” Justin said, “that didn’t look like the Skye I remember.”

“I know what you mean,” Clay said, then shrugged. “A lot can happen in a few weeks, wouldn’t you say?”

Justin stood up to clear off the table. “I guess we of all people shouldn’t be surprised,” he remarked, dropping his plate and knife in the sink. “Aren’t you glad you called her, now?”

“Yes, yes I am.” Clay started to lean against the counter. “I wasn’t planning on telling her about us, but, she kinda pried it out of me. She said I looked _way_ too happy considering everything happening at school.”

“Oh yeah?” Suppressing a smirk, Justin took a step towards the boy. “I must really have that effect on you.”

Clay looked in the other direction, his head doing that wobbly thing it did when he was joking. “Maybe.”

Justin laughed. “Maybe?” he blurted, closing the gap between them. “That kiss earlier was no _maybe_.”

The boy looked back at him with the faintest hint of a smile nudging his cheeks. “I was just trying to figure out what you put on your sandwich.”

Bursting out with another laugh, Justin pressed on, “Oh, come here, you,” and grasped his boyfriend’s head for another kiss. Their lips touched for a moment before Justin felt a hand on his chest nudging him away.

“We really need to get going,” Clay insisted, albeit with a smile. “Traffic right now is gonna be _terrible.”_

Justin pouted. “Five more minutes.”

Jensen sighed dramatically, reaching for his phone on the counter. “All right, I’m setting a timer. Five minutes—that’s all you’re getting, Foley.”

Okay, Clay _had_ to know what that did for him, calling him by his last name. Justin leaned in for another kiss, before drawing back again. “Wait, I have a question.”

“What question?” Clay uttered.

“What part of the semicolon did you pass out on? The dot—or the comma?”

“All right,” Clay huffed as Justin burst out laughing. “Make out—canceled!” He reached for his phone as Justin tried to stop him. “Siri, stop the timer.”

“No!” Justin pleaded, leaning into Clay as the boy tried to avoid his lips. “No cancel!”

Their lips soon met once more, and as Justin continued to savor the taste and feel of Clay’s warm, soft lips and wild, mischievous tongue, he realized—Clay Jensen was a fucking awesome kisser. Maybe he had Skye to thank for that. The next time they talked, Justin made a mental note to ask.

Naturally, five minutes was _so_ not enough time and Clay was pulling back from him as the phone started to chirp and buzz on the counter.

“That was not five minutes!” Justin whined.

“You’re right,” Clay said, pulling away for real this time, “that was seven minutes. Now let’s get going!”


	11. Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Justin attends his recovery meeting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel I should probably forecast some potentially graphic imagery for this chapter.

Clay had trotted upstairs and had come back down with his back pack before they stepped out of the house and got back on the road. As predicted, they hit traffic not long after pulling onto the highway, making the drive last nearly an hour. Once they’d turned into the lot of what looked to be a recreation center, Clay put the car into park in a free spot while Justin pulled the meeting information from his pocket.

As he looked around the area, the large brick building ahead of them looked largely nondescript. It barely had any windows, and the area itself seemed to be mostly just drab developments.

Maybe that was the point. Hold an A.A. meeting in an area as devoid of temptations as possible.

“What are you gonna do while I’m at the meeting?” Justin asked.

The boy shrugged. “I’ll probably just—chill in the car.” When Justin gave him a look, he went on, “Don’t worry about me, okay? Focus on why you’re here.”

“Okay,” Justin sighed, then smiled. He made to open the door, but caught himself and looked back at Clay, who met his gaze. Justin leaned over for a quick kiss, and the boy met him halfway, grinning as they parted.

After stepping out of the car, Justin examined his meeting directions again as he walked towards the entrance, its glass doors the only real distinguishing features of the building. The interior was bright, but sterile, and beyond the foyer was a reception area at the intersection of two hallways. The lobby was devoid of people, but a tall freestanding sign post holding a printed piece of paper that read AA MEETING stood with an arrow pointing down the left hallway.

Justin followed the sign and went down the hall, which only went to one place—a large set of double doors—although there were several other doors and offices in between. He pulled one of the double doors open and found what was clearly a giant multipurpose room. He stepped inside to see three rows of chairs lined up in rough semicircles across from each other on both sides of the room, with an aisle splitting the circle in half.

A handful of people were already sitting. A woman wearing an abstract, multicolored scarf and who had braided hair down past her shoulders stood up and approached Justin as he lingered near the door.

“Welcome,” she greeted with a warm smile and gestured towards the chairs. “I’m Sandra. Please feel free to sit anywhere. You’re right on time.”

Justin took a seat near one of the middle rows, a few seats down from a skinny older dude with matted graying hair and wearing a black rain jacket. Although others in the room looked towards Justin as he sat, the older man didn’t acknowledge Justin’s presence.

Clasping his hands together, Justin suddenly felt incredibly self-conscious. The info sheet Hembree had given him during his exit meeting talked a little about the structure of the meetings, but still, Justin couldn’t help thinking, _What the hell am I doing here?_ It was one thing to have to go to these things while he was still in lockup. It was another when he couldn’t help picturing Clay outside in the parking lot, how good a kisser Jensen was—and what they could’ve been doing together instead.

He spotted Hannah across the room, leaning against the wall, her looks of judgement the loudest sounds in the entire room.

Yeah—and he was a fraud.

Justin had vaguely heard Sandra greeting someone else, but when those footsteps approached him, he looked to see a tall and strangely familiar figure take a seat beside him.

“V?” Justin blurted quietly.

“Hey bitch,” his old acquaintance greeted with a grin. Freed from the orange jumpsuit, he was wearing a loud red trench coat over jeans, a black turtleneck, and sporting a pair of Vans. His blond hair was spiked up in a dramatic faux hawk that swept across his head in waves and gave him at least two or three more inches in height. Justin almost didn’t recognize him without the unkempt mop of blond curls.

“What are you doing here?” Justin asked, unable to help smiling back at V.

_“Me?_ What are you doing here? I thought the H was your game!”

Shrugging, Justin replied, “This one was closer—and it was still a long-ass away.”

“I’ll say.”

Justin laughed. “So, are you gonna still make me call you V, or what?”

V laughed with him. “It’s Sam, doofus.” When he extended a hand, Justin met his grasp, and Sam started shaking his hand wildly, droning, “It’s a _pleasure to make your kind acquaintance,_ _Mr. Justin,_ _sir!”_

“Okay, okay!” Justin said, chuckling as he tried to free his hand. When Sam finally let go, Justin went on, “When did you get out?”

“Funnily enough, two days after you did. Your luck must’ve rubbed off on me.” He eyed Justin down towards his sneakers. “Although—I’d _love_ for other things of yours to rub _on_ me.” Justin let out another laugh. Sam went on, “Boy, you sure do clean up nice.”

Justin felt himself start to blush. “Thanks. So do you.”

Sam smirked at him. “Mm hmm, I get it. You’re here for business, not pleasure. I get it, honey. Don’t worry.”

“I take it you’re on probation?”

“Sure am,” Sam answered with a head shake. “Ten months. You?”

“Six.”

He smirked at Justin. “Well you just got _all_ the luck, don’t you, honey? And here all I did was try to bang an ATM machine. Like, literally—bang!”

They laughed. More people had trickled in as they talked, and as Justin and Sam were quiet for a moment, Justin looked to see a throng of people come through all at once.

“Wow,” Justin remarked, “was there a bus or something?”

Sam shrugged. “Probably. I’m close enough that I walked here, so...”

“You live around here?”

“My dad does.”

Justin nodded. “Is this your first meeting since you’ve been out?”

“No, I had to go to one right as I got out, when I was with my mom. This is my first one at this place, but I think this is looking to be on the up and up, ‘cause Sandra doesn’t look like a snarky bitch. Only room for one at these meetings—and that’s me.” Justin grinned at him. “What about you?” Sam asked.

“This’ll be my first one,” Justin said, “since I’ve been out.”

“Well, don’t be surprised if some are a little uppity if you say you’re an addict. Some can be a little judge-y like that. It’s all the same shit, Justin. Call it by whatever name you like.”

After twenty or thirty or so people settled in on both sides of the semicircle, Sandra took a seat near the aisle towards the front of the room furthest from the door as the sounds of muted conversations and shifting chairs died down.

“Hello, everyone,” Sandra announced. Despite the size of the room, her voice really carried without having to shout. “To the new faces I see tonight, I’d like to thank you for coming. To those of you returning, I welcome you back. I’d like to start the meeting, as I always do, with a moment of prayer—or reflection, if you prefer.”

Justin noticed nearly everyone in the room bow their heads, including Sam beside him. Not wanting to stick out, he decided to do the same.

“Think of your challenges and struggles this week. Take a moment to thank the lord for your strength to be here, now, and how you continue to—persist. Or, if you prefer, reflect on what brought you here today—because even though it might feel that way at times, know that you’re not alone. Everyone here is proof of that simple fact.”

The room was silent for several moments. A few people coughed, and some cleared their throats. The closest Justin had ever come to religion or God was whenever his mother used His name in vain. Bryce and his family attended church on Sundays growing up, but Justin had never gone with them. The flyer from Hembree had mentioned God in one of the steps, so perhaps it shouldn’t have been a surprise that faith could be a commonality among recovering addicts.

Justin realized his dismissal of religion largely stemmed from his mother, who often scoffed and ranted at God to herself whenever she was in one of her moods. _What kind of god would stick me with such terrible, idiot men? Why is god punishing me? What did I do to deserve such an ungrateful brat?_

“Now then,” Sandra went on, “as we continue building and assessing our moral inventories, our assignment from last week had been to bring in _your_ impetus for change. If you weren’t here last week, I just gave you the key to the test.” A few chuckles. “As one of the steps to recovery, it is important to take note of and truly examine our reasons and motivations for our actions.

“Sometimes it may seem like we’re out of control, and that we don’t have a choice in the matter. That’s okay, too. For as much as we might like to think otherwise, we are irrational beings, and our bodies and emotions tend to get the better of us. It may be futile to try to impose reason and logic on the things we cannot control, but for ourselves—taking a logical approach just might be the tool that can help you balance the scales in your favor.

“We are all here on our own volition—because we want to change. We want to be free of our addiction. So, when we start to lose sight of our goal—when our vices start to obstruct our vision—it is _crucial_ to know and to remember our _why._ So—to start this conversation, I asked you to think of one key moment or two where you realized: _this_ is my wake-up call. This is my rock bottom. This is where the only place to go now—is up.”

Sandra gazed around the room. When she turned to look behind her, she said, “Connor—why don’t you start us off?”

A bald man with a sleeve tattoo running down his arm looked up at Sandra. Justin guessed the man was in his forties. He started to talk about his daughter, who was born premature six years ago and still struggled with chronic illness. While his drinking had begun as a way to cope, it ended up costing them their house as they struggled to pay their medical bills.

A woman, Claire, spoke next about her mother, who was also an alcoholic and that alcoholism had run in the family. She had a poor relationship with her mother, likely because they were both so similar—stubborn—and a vow to never end up like her had been thoroughly smashed when Claire awoke from a bender and realized she had missed her boyfriend’s sister’s funeral. Like alcoholism, denial also ran in the family.

A man after her talked about being busted for drunk driving, followed by a kid (who looked to be the only other teenager in the room) who had been expelled for repeatedly showing up to class drunk.

Sam raised his hand after Sandra called for another volunteer. “My name’s not important,” he started, “so just think of me as the scrawny motherfucker with a cool hairstyle. And I’m an alcoholic.

“Before I get to my low point, though, could I just offer everyone here some free medical advice? Okay, we all need it ‘cause healthcare is a joke in this country—look at your poops, y’all. Seriously. Before you flush it away.” Justin had to cover his face, unable to keep from laughing. “Your anus is the window to your health!” Chuckles, and laughs, including a suppressed grin from Sandra.

Sam continued, “Why do you think dogs are always sniffing each other’s butts? Why, ‘hello there! What is your health like, is your human feeding you well? Where have you been? Should I have what you’re having?’ It goes on and on. It’s not just the stuff you put inside of you that’s important. It’s also the shit that comes out of you, too. Specifically, your ass.” A burst of laughter.

Sam cleared his throat. “Can I just say—when I got out of juvie, my first dump was _glorious_. It was solid, but not too hard, a good color and consistency, and it just flowed on out of me like a good shit should.” Justin continued to laugh with others in the room.

“So, the point to this,” Sam went on as the laughter settled, “aside from getting the best free medical advice you’ll get today, there was one day when I sat on the toilet and—lo and behold—it fucking _hurt!_ And what do I see when I look down? Blood, filling the bowl.

“Now, this was a point where I would get so drunk, I would black out, and I simply had these long stretches of periods where I just couldn’t remember ever happening. My life was not a continuous line. It only happened in sporadic dots and in bursts of lucidity. My parents are divorced, so I used their guilt at splitting up to play them against each other and get my way.

“Anyway, I was freaking out this time—because I just couldn’t _remember_ what I had been doing before I’d passed out. I could only recall a party with some friends—but that was it. I start texting around my so-called friends, and the only one with the decency to respond was this girl who I didn’t actually know! We had met during this party, and she had actually programmed her number into my phone as ‘call if you need a designated driver.’ Can you believe that shit?

“So there I was, gaping at my phone like an idiot, having this stranger give me a play by play of the night, and it turns out, someone had dared me to stick a beer bottle up my ass.” A few moaned. “Yeah,” Sam agreed, “so I think you can fill in the blanks from there how this scrawny motherfucker perforated his rectum and shit blood for two weeks.”

Sam ended with a shrug, and fell silent. Sandra had a bewildered yet somehow still appreciative look on her face as Justin willed his own face to stop burning and to keep from laughing. Sam had told him a lot of crazy things when they were juvie, and although he’d assumed at the time that his basketball buddy was just making things up, Justin wondered now how many of those stories and anecdotes were actually true.

“Thank you,” Sandra eventually said, “thank you for that. Would anyone else like to share before we move on?”

Justin felt a sharp pain in his side. “Ow!” he cried out, and looked to see Sam suppressing a smirk after having elbowed him.

Sandra looked directly at Justin and smiled. “I know that might be hard to top, but I always appreciate it when a new face shares something at their first meeting.”

As a flush of anxiety washed over him, Justin sighed, figuring Sam wouldn’t let him get away with it, anyway, and took a deep breath.

“I’m Justin. And—I’m an addict. For, for a long time, I was homeless. I’d run away from home, and from school, and for several months, I lived on the streets.” He spotted Hannah still standing against the wall. “I was—partially the reason why—a, a girl I knew—killed herself.” Justin cleared his throat, and swallowed. “I also stood by and did nothing as my so-called best friend—raped my former girlfriend.”

He shook his head. “Those weren’t because I was an addict, although—although I did smoke weed at the time. My mom is an addict, and I guess I was just—following in her footsteps. I ran away because I couldn’t face what I’d done, and I found heroin as a way to cope, and to numb the endless hours and days of just—wanting to be nothing. To just _not_ be.

“I guess a low point for me was when I was going through withdrawal, and I was starving, and I tried to eat something that was run over on the side of the road.” A few groans. “I suppose I was lucky I threw it up—because I know now, it probably would have killed me.

“I honestly didn’t see an end in sight for me. Well, actually—I did. I didn’t want to die, but I didn’t care enough to do anything to change the fact that, yeah, I was probably going to wind up dead somewhere in a ditch, on a bench, on a sidewalk, or in some back alley.”

Justin took a deep breath. “The only reason I’m here now is because—my former girlfriend is one of the most amazing people I’ve ever met. And, because someone I used to hate—stuck his neck out for me, and found me off the streets. He’s the other most amazing person I’ve ever met, and I owe my life to him. He didn’t just save my life. He’s given me a home, and a family. And I never thought I’d ever love anyone like I love him.”

There were a few _awwws_ as Sandra seemed to gush at Justin, who couldn’t help the tear or two that dripped past his cheeks. He wiped them away and forced a laugh as he cleared his throat. Sam patted his shoulder, offering a sympathetic smile.

“Thank you, Justin,” Sandra said. “I’m so glad you brought up what you did—because that gives us the perfect segue to our next endeavor for the evening…”

Justin glanced over to the wall to find Hannah gone. Even if she had been there, it wouldn’t have made a difference. He knew what he had to do.

He had to tell Clay the truth.


	12. Fraud

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Justin tries to tell Clay the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is about where things started to take a turn in a different direction. I was set in going one way, but realized the words were leading somewhere else...

“I hope you don’t mind that I kind of put you on the spot,” Sam was saying, his expression dripping with uncharacteristic guilt. “I never got the full story from you, so, I was curious.”

He and Justin were standing in the lobby after the meeting adjourned. While many people left, others stayed behind to mingle as Justin and Sam were doing.

Justin grinned. “It’s okay. I could see some of the looks from people in there—I think they knew who I was. The trials were pretty big news.”

Sam nodded. “Yeah, I know. I looked you up when I got out. But there was so much noise surrounding that business. I wanted to at least get some clarification from the source.”

Justin continued smiling. “You could’ve just asked.”

“Yeah, well,” Sam began, glancing towards the ceiling, “maybe I’m trying to take more of a consideration for the feelings of my friends.”

He rolled in his lips and gave Justin a bashful look. “Are we—friends?”

“Yes,” Justin said, nodding. “I—I think we are. I only let select people dunk on me outside of a game.”

Sam laughed. “Good, ‘cause the guy next to us was giving you some serious side-eye when you said you were an addict, and I was hoping I wouldn’t have to throw down just for some rando I met in juvie.”

They started to make for the door. “Yeah, what’s with that?” Justin asked.

“I don’t know. I guess some people are just old-school like that.”

When they stepped outside, the sun was just beginning to set. Sam asked Justin if they could exchange numbers, and they did. He then glanced around the parking lot and asked, “So, is he here? Do I get to meet him?”

Justin grinned. “It’s getting really late. Could we do it next time? So that way you for sure have to come back?”

Sam grinned back at him and sighed dramatically. “Fine!” he huffed, “but we have to hug goodbye. I’m a hugger, and I hug my friends.”

“Okay,” Justin said with a laugh, and they embraced heartily. They then parted ways, and Justin went out into the parking lot.

He came back to Clay’s car to find him reclined in the driver’s seat with a book in hand. He looked up as Justin approached and met him with a smile.

“Hey,” the boy greeted as Justin opened the door and sat inside. “How was the meeting?”

Justin let out a loud exhale. “Exhausting. But okay.”

“Looks like you made a friend?”

Justin chuckled. “That was Sam. He was in juvie when I was there, and we played basketball together. He got out right after I did.”

“Oh, cool. Does he go to school around here?”

“No, it’s just where his dad lives.” He grinned at Clay. “He wanted to meet you, but I told him next time. He’s a good guy, but he can be a little much. I just wanna go home.”

His boyfriend smiled at him. “Yeah, me too.” He started the car. “I take it you talked about me in there?” He went on, still smiling.

“Only good things, I promise,” Justin assured, and they laughed.

It was mostly a quiet drive home, with Clay primarily asking about what he had to do next. Justin was to continue building his moral inventory, which Jensen had already known about. The boy had done more to prepare for the meeting than Justin had.

Without traffic, the drive back was looking to be much shorter—and it did nothing to sooth Justin’s nerves as he tried to psyche himself up for when they got home. The need for a hit spiked angrily beneath his skin, and it pissed Justin off that—of course—his body would want it more the moment he thought of depriving himself of it.

But, lying to Clay—Justin couldn’t keep this up. Had he learned nothing from Jessica, and how he thought he had been protecting her? To keep it up for so long—that had to have been what had hurt her the most. And that he was supposed to have been someone she could trust.

_Fuck_ , why was he going down this road again? A hit would help clear his thoughts. It would keep him from falling back. Forward, not back. _Forward, not back_. Forward—with Clay. With the one he loved.

“Justin!”

He snapped to. “What?”

Clay chuckled. “We’re here.”

They’d stopped moving. They were still in the car, and the roof light was on. Clay had his door open slightly.

“Did you fall asleep?” the boy went on.

Justin shook his head. “Yeah, sorry, I must have.”

They stepped out of the car, and Justin could see Matt and Lainie lounging in the den before the TV. As he and Clay walked inside, Lainie greeted them.

“Hey boys, how did the meeting go?”

“It was okay,” Justin replied. “Tiring.”

“Did you have a chance to eat?” Matt asked. “There’s still some leftovers in the fridge.”

Clay shook his head. “It’s all right, I brought something with me to eat.”

Justin glanced at the boy, then said, “And I had something earlier. I’m not really hungry.”

“We’re gonna call it an early night,” Clay finished for them.

“Do you think this one’ll be a good fit?” Lainie asked. “I know our options are limited, but that doesn’t mean we have to settle.”

Justin nodded, and managed a smile. “Yeah, I think this’ll be a good fit.”

“We should probably get a rotation going,” Matt added, looking towards Lainie.

“Really, it’s okay!” Clay interjected. “I don’t mind. I can take him!”

Lainie glanced back towards Matt, then said, “Of course, Clay. Good night, boys.”

Justin and Clay made for the stairs. As they climbed, Justin said, “You know, you don’t _have_ to come with me every single time.”

“I know, but it’s a sucky drive to make by yourself.” They stepped inside Clay’s room, and the boy shut the door. “Besides,” he went on, smiling, “don’t you want us to have the chance to be alone together?”

Justin smiled back. “Well, yeah, but—I just don’t want you to be bored out of your mind for all that time.”

Clay responded with a quick kiss. “I was totally fine,” he said, “I told you. And anyway—I wanna help you. You’re not alone in this, all right?”

Justin nodded. “Okay, yeah.”

They got ready for bed, putting on their night clothes, and taking turns in the bathroom. Justin opted to go first, hoping that a shower would help sooth his nerves, but to no avail.

As he waited for Clay to return, Justin sat on the couch, his leg unable to stop twitching. He gazed beneath the bed. He’d have enough time. Just one quick hit.

“That would be— _incredibly_ brilliant.” Justin looked to see Hannah sitting down the couch from him. “Letting Clay walk in on you using. It’s like you _want_ this to go down like a soap opera.”

_“What do you want from me?”_ Justin hissed.

_“I_ don’t want anything,” Hannah said. _“You_ know exactly what you need to do, yet _you_ refuse to follow through on it.”

“You’re _not_ helping,” Justin spat.

Hannah merely eyed him for a moment. “What would Jess say?”

He felt a pang pierce his gut. That was a low blow. Justin turned away from Hannah and forced a laugh. “Fuck you.”

“That’s something you’re really good at doing to yourself,” Hannah retorted.

The door opened. Clay walked in, toweling off his head. “Oh, hey,” he said, “I thought you’d already be in bed.”

Justin forced a laugh. Maybe a bit too forced. “Come on, Jensen! You know you have to get in first!”

Clay chuckled as he tossed the towel in the closet. “Yeah, that’s what we’ve been doing, haven’t we?”

Justin spotted Hannah on the couch again. He forced himself to look back at the boy. “Listen, Clay,” he began.

“Hey,” the boy interrupted, “it’s okay, really.” He sat beside Justin—in front of Hannah. “I know tonight must’ve been pretty heavy. Moral inventories aren’t easy, but you don’t have to start with me right off the bat, okay? I think that’s a few steps down the line, anyway.”

Justin managed a brief laugh. “Clay, that’s… I—”

Clay waved his hands once between them. “Honestly, you could cross me off the list.” He gazed at Justin. “I don’t think I’ve said it, but—Justin, I’m really fucking proud of you. You know that?”

Justin swallowed, feeling his eyes well. “Really?”

“Well, yeah!” the boy said, letting out a brief laugh. “You—have come such a long way.” He grasped Justin’s knee. “And I’m proud to be with you. I’m proud to be your boyfriend. And I’m glad you didn’t let me—wallow in my own bullshit. I’m really glad Tony and I found you.”

Justin looked away, sniffling as he felt his throat hitch and more tears escape from his eyelids.

“Oh my god,” Clay went on, “shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” He leaned towards Justin and drew him in for a hug.

“God,” Justin exclaimed, “no, it—it’s okay, really! You didn’t.” He pulled away from Clay and quickly rubbed his eyes as he continued to sniffle. “It’s, it’s just that…” Justin forced another laugh. “I don’t think anyone’s ever said that to me before.”

The boy gave him another kiss on the cheek and rubbed Justin’s back. “Come on. Let’s get to bed.” Clay stood up, turned off the light, then came back to take Justin’s hand and lead him to the bed.

As they settled in under the covers, Justin looked over at his boyfriend. “Could—could I be the little spoon tonight?”

Clay grinned. “Of course.”

Justin turned on his side and felt the boy wrap his arms around him. As good as it felt, it was the only way Justin could’ve managed as he saw Hannah across the room on the couch—in tears. The only way he could manage crying without tipping off Clay.

At how much Justin was a fraud. And a fucking hypocrite.

Who didn’t deserve Clay Jensen.


	13. Date Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Justin and Clay try to make plans for the weekend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's looking more and more that S3 won't drop before this part of the series is done. Oh well; not that I was planning to take anything from S3, but of course, depending on whatever happens, there might be some things that I incorporate/steal. I don't intend on the new season to affect what I have mapped out. It would just be nice to have it out of the way.

Eleven days.

Justin finally did the math and figured out how long his current supply would last. He could probably stretch it to thirteen, but he had to experiment with how effective a lower dosage might be. He wasn’t using to get high, but to stay even. The variable he couldn’t control was the time he could take between hits.

And he didn’t need Hannah to tell him that that window was getting narrower with every hit.

He had managed to get through the night with Clay right beside him, but Justin had awoken early. Much earlier than normal, before the sun was even up. More often than not, Clay would have a raging boner in the mornings—and that morning was no different. They wouldn’t always do something about it, but Justin had pressed his luck and decided to wake the boy with gradual kisses around his neck. When Clay had started to come to, Justin had reached down into his boyfriend’s underwear and slowly began to stroke him off.

Knowing Clay was aroused would pretty much get Justin hard right away, and he’d made it clear to the boy as he began rubbing himself against Clay’s thigh. As luck would have it, Clay had been all for it, and it wasn’t long before they were making out in full force and jacking each other off. An explosion of come between them had been the inevitable result as their hushed but intense cries of climax filled the room.

It had been hot, but Justin had felt the regret biting at the edge of his orgasm almost as soon as he’d come—because he’d gotten Clay off so they’d have to shower. So Justin could have a moment to himself to inject.

They had a moment to cuddle as the sun had begun to rise. Justin had still managed to enjoy Clay’s embrace in spite of his guilt—and his need for a hit—but having his boyfriend beside him was enough to keep the negative feedback loop inside of Justin from spiraling out of control.

That was when he finally did the math, and his plan had proceeded without a hitch. After injecting himself, however, and he got back to level, Justin made the decision—he’d wean himself off this shit. Take as little as possible. Only when he absolutely needed it. He wasn’t using to get high. He could do this. Really. He could prove to Clay that he was the boyfriend the boy thought he was. Once his supply was gone, that was it. He wouldn’t use Ren’s contact, because he’d already forgotten what the code word was.

Justin packed his stuff back under the bed, and he turned to see Hannah sitting on the couch.

“The word was ‘horcrux,’ Justin. H-o-r-c-r-u-x. Horcrux.”

~             ~             ~

“Let’s do something tonight.”

Justin eyed Clay as they stepped off the parking lot and were making for the school. He was both amused by and skeptical of the boy’s suggestion.

“Clay Jensen,” Justin began, “wanting to go out on a Friday night?” He grinned.

The boy rolled his eyes and suppressed a smile. “Ha ha ha. Very funny. If my parents ask, I’ll tell ‘em it was your idea.”

Justin chuckled. “So _I_ would be the bad influence?”

“Wow, what did you have in mind, Foley?” Clay said, making a face.

They laughed, and Justin gently backhanded the boy on the arm. “Seriously, though,” Clay went on as they reached the main entrance, “let’s do something.”

“Okay,” Justin replied, “I’ll think of something.”

He spotted Scott coming up behind them. “Hey Clay. Hey Justin,” he greeted, stepping up beside Clay. When they said _hey_ back, Scott let out a deep sigh. He looked beat. “It took me all night, but I finished it.”

“Dude,” Clay said, “your draft was good. I only gave you a few pointers.”

“Yeah, I—couldn’t help myself.”

“You were overthinking everything!”

“But—can you really overthink Chaucer, though?” Scott countered. “I couldn’t help it—I just kept finding new shit every time I went back over a poem.”

“I hope you didn’t go overboard,” Clay went on.

Scott shrugged, giving a sheepish smile. “Maybe. I couldn’t sleep anyway. And I write slow.”

As they reached a juncture in the hallway, Clay said, “Well, as long as you tied everything back to satire and irony, you should be good.”

Reed crossed his fingers. “I think I did,” he said, making for the other direction.

Clay looked back at Justin. “He was pretty stressed about his paper,” the boy said.

“Is it most of his grade?” Justin asked.

“A big chunk, but his paper was really good to start with. Too bad he doesn’t see it.”

As they eyed each other for a moment, Clay glanced around, and he suddenly seemed unsure of himself. He then patted Justin on the arm and said, “I’ll see ya later.”

It clicked right as the boy walked away. Public display of affection. Justin wouldn’t have minded a kiss goodbye, but realized Clay was obviously not there yet. Justin couldn’t help but think of all the times he and Jess said goodbye with a quick hug, kiss, or peck on the cheek (when they were good, at least), and felt a twinge of indignation at the double standard he and Clay faced. Why the fuck did it have to matter if they were two dudes?

As Justin made for his locker, he spotted Ryan along the way. Justin walked past him, stopped, then decided to backtrack. Fuck it—if he didn’t do this now, he’d probably forget and never do it.

Ryan noticed him on the backtrack and met Justin with an intrigued look as he approached.

“Hey Ryan,” Justin greeted.

“Justin,” he greeted back, opening his locker, “hello. What can I do for you?”

Justin opened his mouth to speak, but hesitated. Oh well—there was really no way to front this. He closed his mouth, let out a quick sigh, then finally said, “I’ve been meaning to ask you—what does _pan_ mean?”

Shaver gave him a look as he stuffed a book into his locker. “Excuse me?”

“Pan, like, pansexual.”

Ryan gave him a surprised look. “Oh, right.”

“I mean,” Justin blurted, sticking his thumbs in his pockets, “I’ve obviously looked it up, but—I still don’t really get it.”

“Well,” Ryan began, slipping a book into his bag, “I guess you can _kind of_ think of it as a variation on bisexuality, but without the focus on gender, or gender identity. I think the easiest way to put it, for me, at least, is that you’re attracted to the person. Not for what’s in their pants. Like, you look first at who a person is and how they make you feel—before romantic or sexual attraction comes into play at all.” Ryan shut his locker. “Does that make sense?”

Justin nodded. “Yeah, I think so.”

Ryan turned towards him, clearly trying to temper the curiosity dripping off his face. “Why do you ask?”

Justin shrugged. “Just—trying to figure things out.”

“Well,” Ryan said, letting a smile break out, “I’m around if you—think of any other questions.”

When Shaver walked away, Justin let out another sigh. Maybe that hadn’t been such a good idea, but Ryan had at least done a better job than Tony at explaining it. If it ever came back to bite them, he could at least tell Clay he finally figured something out.

Justin wasn’t bi. He was pan. The term fit in a way that _bi_ never really did, and he couldn’t help but smile as he started for his locker.

~             ~             ~

_Hey, so I need some ideas_

_ideas for what??_

_Clay wants to do something tonight_  
_Like go out I mean_

As Justin had expected, Jess’s response consisted with a string of _eeeeeee!_ and a set of celebratory emoji.

_wait so, CLAY JENSEN wants to go out on a friday night???_

_I know lol_

_lol that’s a big deal_  
_he must really like you ;p_

_Well he’s not gonna like me anymore if I bring him on a lame date_

As they texted throughout the day, Justin told her about how they’d gone to the Crestmont, and Eisenhower Park.

_omg Justin_  
_why am I not surprised Clay is a TOTAL romantic_

_Now you see what I’m up against_

_justin! stop putting so much pressure on yourself_

_I can’t help it!_  
_What did you like?_  
_When we first started?_

_ok stop right there_  
_i’m not clay, so don’t think like that_  
_what would CLAY want to do?_

_Well I thought Clay wouldn’t want to go out at all!_  
_Which is why I’m at a loss_

Justin didn’t get her response until after the last period of the day.

_think about what YOU want to do_  
_and do it together_  
_not every date has to be a big deal :)_

As the final bell rang, Justin let out a deep breath and decided Jess was right. He was putting too much pressure on himself. He packed up his stuff, then made for his locker. Once there, as he entered his combination, Justin spotted Clay coming towards him, a smile nudging his cheeks. Justin couldn’t help smiling back as they made eye contact.

“Hey,” Clay greeted, thumbing the straps of his book bag.

“Hey,” Justin echoed as he opened his locker.

“So,” the boy went on, “it’s a miracle. I am completely homework free this weekend. What about you?”

Justin grinned. “I’m not so lucky, Jensen.” He tapered his expression. “I still got a bunch of make-up work to do.”

The boy nodded. “Yeah, I figured, but, it’s not something we couldn’t churn through on Sunday.”

“Doing homework is not a date, Clay.”

Chuckling, Clay said, “I never said it was.”

“Just checking.” Justin pulled his math book from his locker.

_“Well,_ since you brought it up…” When Clay trailed off, he started grinning at Justin.

“What?” Justin asked, grinning back.

“What are we doing tonight?”

Justin happened to see Ryan coming down the hallway. When they met each other’s gaze for a second, Shaver smirked at him before glancing over at Clay as he walked past them. Justin felt his cheeks start to burn.

“It’s a surprise,” Justin eventually said, dropping his physics book in his backpack.

“Ooh, intrigue,” Clay remarked. “Well, I look forward to tonight, then.”

When Justin eyed him, they laughed, and Justin shut his locker. They made for the car, and Clay started their drive home.

“So,” Justin said, once they were out of the school zone, “I think I might have—tipped Ryan off about us.”

Clay cleared his throat. “Umm, yeah. Tony—mentioned it to me today.”

“Tony?” Justin exclaimed.

“He said Ryan texted him.”

Justin sighed. “Can he keep _nothing_ to himself?”

Clay seemed to be suppressing a laugh. “Well, what’d you expect—going to the biggest gossip at school?”

“I blame Tony. He sucked at explaining what _pan_ meant.”

“Why didn’t you ask me?”

Justin looked towards him, and they met each other’s eyes for a moment. “Honestly, I—it didn’t even occur to me.”

“I did spend a fair amount of time looking into that kind of stuff while—while you were away.”

“Really?”

Clay nodded. “I think _pan_ makes sense for you. Just based on what you’ve told me. More so than _queer._ ”

“Queer? Where’d that come from?”

“Tony showed me the text from Ryan. It went something along the lines of, ‘Guess who’s possibly the newest queer to wave the rainbow flag?’”

Justin laughed. “Great. Wait—isn’t that, like, a slur, though?”

“It was,” Clay answered, shrugging, “a long time ago. And I guess it can still be, based on the context. But it’s been reclaimed, in a way. It’s more of a catch-all term, now. Kinda. Meant to primarily buck heteronormative and gender conformity. And maybe as a way to not have to say all the letters.”

“I think I like _pan_ better.”

“Me too. It suits you.” The boy glanced over at him and grinned. “Justin Foley, pansexual.”

Justin laughed. “Clay Jensen, bisexual.”

After a moment, once they crossed into their neighborhood, Clay said, “So, you really want everyone to know, don’t you?”

“It’s not so much that,” Justin responded. “It’s more that I—I’d really like to be able to hold your hand. Or kiss you goodbye in the mornings. Or give you a hug.” He glanced out the window. “I dunno. It’s not that I care that—people know.”

Clay didn’t say anything. They pulled into their driveway not long afterwards. When the boy put the car in park, he took Justin’s hand and said, “Well, I suppose word was gonna get out—sooner or later.”

He leaned towards Justin, who leaned in towards Clay in return, and they met in the middle for a kiss. As their lips touched, Justin realized how starved he’d been for his boyfriend’s touch the entire day, and reached to caress the boy’s thigh—which started buzzing rapidly.

Justin pulled back and grinned. “Your leg is vibrating, Clay.”

His boyfriend smirked. “I know. I was trying to ignore it.” Clay leaned in to resume their kiss.

Despite the supple caress of Clay’s lips, Justin couldn’t help hearing the angry buzzing in Clay’s jeans and pulled back once more. “Jesus, who is blowing up your phone?”

Sighing, Clay sat back and pulled the phone from his pocket. “Fine, I’ll turn it off, if it’ll make you—happy…”

The boy trailed off as he gazed at his phone. “What?” Justin asked, Clay’s expression making his stomach sink.

“It’s Scott,” he uttered. “‘Help, help. SOS, SOS, help.’”

“What the fuck?”

Clay tapped the phone screen, then brought it up to his ear. After a moment, “Yeah, it’s me. What’s up?” He met Justin’s gaze, and in the silence, shook his head, the confused look persisting on his face. “Scott, just—what’s going on?” Another moment of silence, then, “Okay, fine. I can be there in a couple of minutes.”

“What?” Justin said. “Is he having a panic attack over his paper again?”

“He wouldn’t say,” Clay replied, shaking his head. “Only that it was ‘life or death.’”

“Seriously? Why you, then?”

The boy shook his head again. “He said he didn’t know who else to ask for help.” He reached to start the car, then paused. “Do you mind—coming with me?”

Justin sighed. “You’re gonna go, aren’t you?”

Clay glanced down at his phone as it buzzed again. “Yeah, I—think I have to, now.”

“Well, if it’s ‘life or death,’ I’m coming with you, Jensen.”

His boyfriend started the car. “Good. I think we’ve both learned by now—I’m not that great in a crisis.”

They backed out of the driveway and Clay started driving in the same direction they’d come in from. Justin soon learned Scott didn’t live very far away as they came to a stop a few minutes later and just a few streets over.

“Is this it?”

As Clay parked along the sidewalk, Justin glanced up at the house before them. It looked just like all the other houses in the neighborhood, except that it was on a hill. For some reason, Justin thought Scott was rich, too, like Bryce or Zach. Or something.

“Yeah,” Clay answered. He glanced up towards the house, too, which only had Scott’s sedan in the driveway. “Doesn’t look like either of his parents are home.”

They stepped out of the car and started walking up towards the front of the house. As they neared the steps leading to the front door, Justin sighted spots of a trail of something maroon staining the lawn—and leading around the corner of the house.

“Shit,” Justin sighed.

“What?”

Justin approached the trail and, as he knelt down on the lawn, quickly confirmed what he’d been afraid of—the patches of dark on the grass looked to be, indeed, blood.

“Is,” Clay began, “is—that what I think it is?”

Justin looked around the corner and followed the trail of blood towards the side door, which had no signs of forced entry.

“Someone’s pretty fucked up,” Justin remarked.

“Oh god,” Clay uttered, “Scott.”

Clay ran for the front door, rang the doorbell, and started banging on the front door. “Scott!” he called. “Scott! Are you all right?”

Justin reached Clay right as the door opened. Scott appeared at the doorway—with dark patches of stains soiling much of his shirt and a little of his jeans. Blood.

“Holy shit, Clay,” Scott breathed, and glanced at Justin, too, “you came.”

“Are you hurt?” Clay demanded. “What’s going on?”

Scott glanced down at his clothes, then quickly shook his head. “No, no,” he answered, “it’s not my blood.”

“Scottie,” a voice croaked somewhere from behind the door, “who the fuck—did you call?”

As Scott stepped away from the door, Justin followed Clay inside, and they looked in the living room for the source of the voice.

“Holy shit,” Clay breathed.

Justin felt his stomach drop. “Jesus Christ.”

The guy on the couch, with his face bruised and swollen and with blood practically soaking through his shirt, was barely recognizable. One wrist was already in a cast, but it looked to be partially cracked. It wasn’t until he looked back at them through his one good eye and spoke did Justin realize who it was.

“Scottie, you asshole,” he coughed, a bit of blood dripping from his mouth, “what did you do?”

Monty. It was fucking Monty. Looking like he’d been beaten to hell and back.


	14. Reckoning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Justin and Clay try to handle Monty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lightly graphic elements ahead.

After a collective stupor settled over them, Scott finally blurted, “I didn’t know what to do, Clay.”

Clay gaped at Scott. “So you called _me?”_ he exclaimed. “Why not—I don’t know—an _ambulance?”_

“No!” Monty cried out, but started to cough. He turned away from them as a little more blood seeped from his mouth. “No, no hospital…”

Justin peered at the blood concentrated around Monty’s side. There was something reflective and broken jutting out from his rib cage. Maybe part of a small screwdriver? Broken shiv?

“He’s been fucking stabbed!” Justin spat, indicating the wound.

“I know, I know,” Scott began. “I, I, I—I told you! I didn’t, I didn’t know what to do. He, he kept saying—don’t call the cops, or an ambulance, or he’s dead anyway. I—I tried Zach, but he didn’t answer…”

Clay stepped up to Reed. “Scott, I’m gonna call for an ambulance, okay?”

“No!” Monty shouted again, twisting around and nearly falling off the couch. The three of them cried out and barely kept him from toppling onto the floor.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Justin demanded from Monty as they settled him back on the couch. “You’re gonna bleed out on this thing if you don’t get to a hospital _now_.”

Monty was shaking his head. “He’s—he’s gonna find me,” he uttered. “He’s just gonna finish the job.”

“Who?” Clay asked. “Bryce?”

At that, Monty managed to laugh, which only made him cough and spit up a bit more blood. “That prick—I wish.”

“His dad,” Scott cut in. “It’s gotta be.”

“Scottie, why didn’t you listen to me?” Monty rambled, looking back towards the ceiling. “Why didn’t you just get the bandages—and the, the alcohol. Just—just some stitches, and I’ll be good as new…”

“No no no,” Clay said, kneeling beside the couch and snapping his fingers next to Monty’s head as he started to doze off. “Stay with us. Stay with us!” He turned towards Justin. “Call nine-one-one.”

“No!” Monty cried out, weaker this time, as Justin pulled out his phone. “No! Please… I don’t wanna die. Please—I don’t wanna die…”

“Monty,” Clay insisted, “Monty—listen to me. You’re gonna be okay. We’re gonna get you to a hospital, and—”

“Fuck!” Monty cried out again, coughing up more blood. “Why won’t anyone— _listen_ to me?”

“I tried this, Clay,” Scott said. “As soon as he showed up, out of the blue, I barely managed to get him to the couch, and when I tried to call, he just kept freaking out. He kept freaking out.”

Justin had his finger hovering over the dial button. “Should we just call the cops and be done with him? He doesn’t deserve our help. I mean really—does he?”

Scott glared at Justin. “I know what he’s done is fucked up, but does that mean he deserves to die for it?”

Clay held his hands out and spread his arms between Justin and Scott. “Guys,” he said, “we’re in it, now. There’s no point in debating this.”

As Monty started to cough up some more blood, Scott clutched his hair and spun around. “Fuck. Fuck oh fuck oh fuck,” he started to pant, “he’s gonna die. He’s gonna die on my fucking couch…”

Clay looked towards Scott for a moment but steered his attention back towards Monty. “Hey, hey,” the boy said, snapping his fingers once more, “stay with me, all right?”

Justin went up to Scott and grabbed him by the shoulders before making him turn towards Justin. When he saw Reed’s face, his eyes were clenched shut, and Justin realized by the tears that Scott was losing his shit.

“Dude, chill, okay?” Justin urged. Scott looked to be hyperventilating. “Keep it together. No one’s dying on your fucking couch, all right?”

“He’s having a panic attack,” Clay said towards them. “Tell him to breathe. Deep, long breaths.”

“Dude, Scott,” Justin persisted, “look at me. Look at me!” After a moment, Reed obeyed, so Justin went on, “Breathe—just breathe deep, okay, Scott? Breathe!”

When Scott seemed to finally listen, Monty also appeared to come to. “Clay,” he uttered, “you’re the good guy. You wanna be the hero, don’t you? You wanna save everybody, right?”

Justin took that as his cue to hand his phone to Scott. He indicated the screen to him, then tilted his head towards the next room. Scott nodded and seemed to take the hint. Justin stepped towards the couch as Scott slipped away.

“What do you want, Monty?” Clay said.

“I don’t deserve it. I know I don’t. But will you help me? Please?” He looked towards Justin. “You know what that’s like, don’t you, Justin? Bryce chewed me up, then spat me out. Same as you. I thought he gave a damn, but he doesn’t.”

“Did he do this to you?” Clay pressed.

Monty managed a chuckle. “Is that what you wanna hear, Jensen? Look,” he coughed, then went on, “I’ll tell the cops whatever. I’ll admit it—the gun I stole from you, the Jeep, what I did to everyone else—I’ll admit it, but you gotta help me. Help me like you helped Tyler. Please.”

“You really trying to make a fucking deal right now, Monty?” Justin spat.

Montgomery started coughing again in response. “Not a deal, man. M-m-mercy. I go to a hospital and my dad’ll find me—and finish the job. He’s gone off the fucking deep end, this time. He finds me again, he’ll fucking kill me. I barely got away—this time.”

Justin and Clay looked at each other for a moment. “You have to admit what you did to Tyler,” Clay said. “Tell the police everything. We’ll back up what you said about your dad to the police. But you keep up your end of the bargain—and I might be able to get another lawyer to take your case.”

“Fine,” Monty sputtered, “w-whatever. I’m so fucking— _tired_ —of living in fear. I just want it to stop.”

When Scott rejoined them, sirens began to sound in the distance. He handed Justin his phone back, his hands trembling, still. “An ambulance was already nearby,” Reed said. “It’s en route.”

Monty managed a hoarse laugh. “You never could pick your team, could you, Scottie?”

~             ~             ~

Once paramedics arrived, and after the first responders administered aid, they loaded Monty onto the ambulance. A squad car arrived not long afterwards, and so Justin, Clay, and Scott were left out on the driveway as they watched the ambulance speed off, wailing away. A few of the neighbors stepped outside briefly to see what was going on as two of the officers took their preliminary statements.

“Why didn’t you call emergency services sooner?” the first officer asked, a skeptical look shaping her concern.

Scott was still trembling, slightly. “Like, like I said—he, he showed up out of the blue. It was like, one of the first things he said—‘don’t call an ambulance,’ and, ‘don’t call the police.’ I, I just panicked. I couldn’t get him to calm down.”

“You managed to call someone else, though, correct?” The officer glanced at Clay and Justin.

“Yeah,” Scott replied, “yeah. Monty, Montgomery, seemed to have sporadic—moments of, of being with it, and then out of it the next. It all happened really fast. When he’d come to, and I wasn’t there, he’d start screaming again. He was hysterical at first. It took me a few minutes to calm him down.”

“So,” the second officer began, “he stated his father had done this to him?”

Scott nodded. “He said his dad had been arrested, but had gotten out of jail. He’d done this before to Monty. His dad beat him.”

The second officer stepped away to speak into her walkie-talkie as the first officer looked towards Clay and Justin, “You two were nearby when Mr. Reed called?”

Clay nodded. “Yes. We’d just gotten home. We live a few streets over.”

“And is that when the call to dispatch finally went out?”

“Yes.”

The officer seemed to shake her head as she continued to write in her notepad. “I remember you from the night at the school, Mr. Jensen. Trouble really seems to have a way of finding you, doesn’t it?”

Justin felt a flare of anger burst within him as he caught Scott’s eye, who quickly interjected, “They were the only ones to answer. I tried my mom, and a few other people, but they were the only ones to answer in time.”

“We could have easily been here in the same amount of time,” countered the officer, whose name badge, Justin finally saw, read Dannick.

“I was scared,” Scott said. “I couldn’t have done it alone. I was—I was afraid if I couldn’t keep him calm, he’d just rupture something and, and die.”

The second officer came back to Dannick and quietly mentioned something. All Justin could make out was _ten-sixteen._

Scott pulled out his phone. “It’s my mom,” he said, and stepped away when Dannick waved him off.

“We need to go to the hospital with Monty,” Clay cut in. “As far as we know, he doesn’t have anyone else. Are we free to go?”

Dannick nodded. “Yes, but if you’re going there, you should be ready to make additional statements. Minutes—even seconds—can make all the difference. Luckily, they were able to stabilize the boy, but this is not a gamble you should make in these kinds of situations.”

When Dannick and the other officer stepped back into their cruiser and drove off, Justin let out a deep sigh. “That could’ve really gone sideways, couldn’t it?”

Clay nodded. “Yeah, it could have. I’m sorry I asked you to come with me.”

Justin shook his head and grasped the boy’s arms briefly. “Hey—don’t be. I wanted to come, remember?”

“You’re on probation, Justin,” Clay went on, shaking his head again. “You don’t need this.”

“Well, from what she said, _you_ don’t really need to be around cops, either.”

Clay seemed to swallow. “We’re lucky our story checked out. ‘Ten-sixteen’ is a domestic disturbance. Monty’s dad—he was probably already on their radar.”

Scott came back up to them. “My mom’s gonna meet me at the hospital. Zach just texted me back, now, too. Are, are you guys—coming with me?”

When Clay looked to Justin like he was about to say something, Justin turned to Scott and said, “Yes, we’re coming with you. We’re fucking in it, now, so—whatever!”

Reed hung his head. “I’m—I’m really sorry I dragged you guys into this, but still—seriously, I think you saved us both. I, I don’t know what I would’ve done if—if…”

“It’s okay, Scott,” Clay offered, “really. This is a lot to take on, on your own. This might’ve been the best thing we could’ve done for Tyler, too.”

“If Monty keeps his word,” Justin reminded.

They set off for the hospital, with Scott taking his car, and Justin taking the driver’s seat in Clay’s Prius while the boy called Mrs. Jensen to explain everything that had gone down. He put her on speaker, so Justin could chime in, too, whenever he could. When they arrived at the hospital, and met up with Scott again near urgent-care reception, they managed to find out that Monty had been prepped for surgery before settling into the lobby.

Zach showed up right before Scott’s mom, and Scott started off filling them in, taking turns with Clay and Justin. Lainie showed up right as they started going over what they’d told the police.

“Dude, this is insane,” Zach was saying. Mrs. Reed was trying to wipe some of the blood off of Scott, but he waved her off, insisting he was fine.

Clay stood up to meet his mom, and Justin followed. She gave Clay a hug, and Justin was pleasantly surprised when she hugged him, too.

“So you really didn’t know what you were getting yourselves into, did you?” Lainie said.

“That’s my fault,” Scott interjected. He hung his head as his mother rubbed his back. “I was really, really scared no one would come if—if I told them what was happening.”

“That’s understandable,” Mrs. Reed assured.

“I’m sorry I missed your texts,” Zach offered. “I was helping Alex with his PT.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Scott said.

“Well, Scott’s right,” Clay admitted, shrugging. “In hindsight, we probably wouldn’t have come if he had told us. Or we would’ve wasted time arguing over it on the phone.”

Lainie took a seat as Justin and Clay sat back down. After a few moments, Zach leaned forward in his chair, then said, “So, what now? Are we all really here for Monty to come out of surgery?”

Almost as if on cue, Justin spotted Deputy Standall and two other cops enter the lobby and head for reception.

“We’re here for Tyler,” Clay answered. He glanced towards his mom. “Aren’t we?”

“I’m here for both of them,” Scott said, keeping his gaze towards the floor. “What Monty did to Tyler was egregious, but his dad also nearly killed him. I don’t know.” He glanced up towards Zach, then looked around the group. “That’s karma, isn’t it?”

Mrs. Jensen looked towards Deputy Standall and the others. “It’s too early, still, to make that kind of call.” She stood up and said, “Excuse me,” before walking over towards reception.

After she stepped away, Justin looked over at Clay and nudged him on the arm. When Clay looked at him, Justin uttered, “Some date, huh?”

At that, Clay managed a smile. “Hey, you’re not getting out of this _that_ easy,” he whispered. “I still expect a surprise, Foley.” Justin chuckled.

Lainie and the Deputy returned to the group and Standall asked Scott, Clay, and Justin to go over everything once more. He then stepped away with the other officers, although Justin could overhear Standall ask for an APB over his walkie.

“If Monty admits what he did,” Clay asked his mom, “does this help Tyler?”

Mrs. Jensen took a brief moment. “It could, but things aren’t so cut-and-dry. Tyler is still undergoing psychiatric evaluation. Dennis is handling his case, but as far as I know, Tyler still hasn’t made a statement, one way or the other.”

“What about Monty?” Scott asked, peering up from the floor. “Is it enough to keep his dad in jail?”

“It’s ultimately up to a judge,” Lainie replied, “but in my opinion, yes, it is.”

After falling silent for a moment, Mrs. Jensen turned to Clay and Justin to ask if they wanted anything from the cafeteria downstairs. When they both declined, Lainie stood up to leave, and Scott’s mom quickly announced she would go with her and followed her out of the lobby.

Once they were gone, Zach glanced around at the three of them left. “What if Tyler never says anything?” he asked. “About, about what happened to him?”

“The police can still act on a confession,” Clay responded.

“Still, though,” Zach went on, “I can kinda see why Tyler wouldn’t, necessarily, want to—to say what happened to him.”

“I hope he does,” Justin remarked.

They continued to wait. Clay and Zach started texting intermittently, and when Justin felt his own phone vibrate a few times, he saw that he was included in a group chat to Tony with Clay. Word was starting to get out that Monty had been found.

Lainie and Mrs. Reed returned to the lobby nearly a half-hour later. Scott’s mom brought him and Zach a yogurt each, while Mrs. Jensen brought Clay and Justin each a granola bar. Not long after that, a nurse entered the lobby, which caught the attention of Deputy Standall, who had been waiting just outside the lobby.

“Friends or family of Montgomery de la Cruz?” the nurse announced.

“Classmates,” Lainie quickly interjected. “The boys found him.”

“I see,” the nurse said, eyeing Standall as he came up to them. “The surgery went well with no major complications. He is actually awake now, but did ask for a police presence.” She looked towards Standall. “I take it that’s why you’re here.”

“Is he cognizant enough to speak?” the deputy asked.

“He’s still coming off the anesthetic. I would wait, unless it is urgent.”

“It is.”

The nurse nodded. “Come with me.”

As the nurse led Standall from the lobby, Lainie stood and stepped away to take a phone call. Justin glanced at Mrs. Reed speaking quietly with Scott before looking over to Clay.

“How much longer do you wanna wait?” Justin asked the boy.

“At least long enough to see if Monty follows through or not,” Clay said.

When Mrs. Jensen returned to the lobby, they waited. Justin finished his granola bar, then decided to pull his copy of _Heart of Darkness_ from his book bag and at least attempt some reading. He caught Zach’s eye, a grin shaping his face.

“What?” Justin asked.

Zach laughed. “Dude, I’ve never seen you read before.”

“I can read!” Justin insisted. Clay and Scott laughed and Mrs. Jensen and Mrs. Reed looked onward, smiling.

“We’re still gonna get you on a program,” Zach went on. “If Clay can work out your brain, I’ll work out your body.”

“Sure, okay,” Justin agreed.

Deputy Standall returned some time later. “What did Monty say?” Scott asked.

“Well,” the deputy began, “he did make a statement against his father, but we already had enough to go on.” He glanced at Lainie, then around the group, before letting out a sigh. “Montgomery is otherwise— _asking_ —for his lawyer.”

When Clay looked at his mom, she turned towards Standall. “A colleague of mine is on her way,” she said simply.

“I’ll be waiting,” Standall pressed. “Hopefully, this will all be worth it.”

When the deputy stepped outside the lobby, Justin looked towards Mrs. Jensen. “Is Monty trying to worm his way out of it, now?”

Lainie shook her head. “Not necessarily. It might be better for Montgomery to consult a lawyer before speaking to the police. Less chance for the perception of, of coercion.”

Clay let out a deep exhale. “This better not be for nothing,” he uttered, mostly to himself, it seemed.

“He just needs the chance to do the right thing,” Scott interjected. “We all deserve that, don’t we?”

The lawyer Mrs. Jensen spoke of arrived in the lobby shortly afterwards. She shook hands with Lainie before they stepped out of the lobby for a few moments. As Clay’s mom returned, he asked her, “What now?”

“Ashby is heading to consult with Monty,” she replied.

It was almost twenty or thirty minutes later before the lawyer returned, and Deputy Standall happened to come into the lobby again around the same time.

“My client is ready to speak,” Ashby said to Standall.

Justin looked at Clay as the lawyer and the deputy walked out of the lobby. The boy watched them leave, then looked back at Justin.

“Is this it?” Justin asked.

“Yeah,” Clay answered, “this is it.”


	15. Result

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Justin and Clay finally have their date night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I imagined, the new season has brought a somewhat flurry of activity to the series. I know fics are where many of us try to escape, so if you're hot off the new season, I would suggest you stop at the end of this chapter and wait a while before continuing the series until the ashes of season 3 settles. While I think the new season does a lot to make up for some of the controversy of prior seasons, I still feel the double dose of angst might be a lot take on, especially if you're affected by issues raised in the show.

“Monty made a full confession to the police about Tyler,” Lainie was saying, with Matt seemingly stunned as he sat across the booth before her. He’d been late to join them, after Justin had suggested they go out somewhere to eat.

“He also admitted to the acts of intimidation against Clay and the others,” she went on, before taking a sip from her wine glass.

Matt glanced over at Clay, who was sitting beside his mom. “So, he really kept his word?”

The boy nodded. “It looks that way.”

Clay’s dad then looked beside himself over at Justin. “I think we can conclude,” Matt said, “you’ve been the consistent good luck charm through all of this.”

Justin forced a laugh. “I’m hardly lucky.”

Their waiter brought over the breadsticks and a glass of water for Matt, then asked if they were all ready to order. Lainie opted for the fish, Clay the pasta, while Matt and Justin chose the steak.

“I see we’re both in the mood for red meat tonight,” Mr. Jensen remarked.

“Yeah,” Justin agreed with a grin.

Matt looked over at his wife. “What happens to Monty now?”

“Well,” Lainie began, “Standall informed me they plan to charge Monty before he’s discharged from the hospital, but they did manage to locate his father before we left. He’s being detained once more, and I doubt a judge will be so willing to grant bail, or such a low one, again.”

“But could he still bond out?” Clay asked.

“If bail is set, it’s possible,” Lainie replied.

“Even if he does,” Justin said, “Monty will be headed to juvie before then, right?”

Lainie nodded. “It’s what the deputy said they would do.”

“What about Bryce?” Matt asked.

Mrs. Jensen shook her head as Clay frowned. “Monty stated he did those things without Bryce’s knowledge.”

“Could it be true?” Matt went on.

“Even if it isn’t,” Justin answered, “Bryce is like Teflon. Shit just doesn’t stick to him.”

Clay’s dad took a moment, then broke off a piece of his breadstick. “Well,” he said, “is this all over, then?”

Lainie and Clay glanced at each other before looking back across the table. “Yes, Dad,” the boy said, “I think this is all finally over. The high-stakes drama parts, at least.”

“Tyler and Montgomery will be getting the help they need,” Mrs. Jensen added. “I think this will be the impetus for the county to implement some meaningful policy changes. Or at least, I’ll be working to see that they do.”

They shifted the conversation to lighter topics, and had dinner together in the restaurant—like a family. Towards the end of the meal, Justin could finally sense himself latching onto not just the word—but the concept—as he talked and laughed with Clay and his parents. It was a bittersweet feeling, not simply because of everything he’d been through over the last several months, but also for the first time in his life—he could begin to feel what belonging felt like.

Justin finally started to feel like he belonged somewhere. And that somewhere—was with Clay.

After they finished dessert and Lainie settled up the bill, they left the restaurant and Clay’s parents went to their respective Priuses as Justin, naturally, wound up with Clay as they all made for home. As he drove, the boy seemed to have a smile on his face. When Justin made eye contact with him, that smile only widened.

“What?” Clay asked. Justin was smiling, too.

“Does it count—if your parents were there?”

Clay gave him a look, then burst out laughing. “Oh,” he said, “that! I mean, if you really need to…” He grinned.

Justin chuckled. “I was really racking my brain the whole day, trying to think of something for us to do.”

“Don’t stress, Justin,” Clay assured, reaching across to take his hand. “If I get to do it with you, I’ll be happy.”

“Aww,” Justin cooed, and they laughed.

They got home, settled into their nightly routine, and Justin sat on top of the bed waiting for Clay to return from his shower. As he waited, he continued _Heart of Darkness,_ and when Clay entered the room and shut the door behind him, he grinned at Justin as he came towards the bed.

“You know,” the boy remarked, “there’s something that really turns me on—seeing you read.”

Justin burst out with a brief laugh. “Seriously, Jensen?”

Clay crawled atop the bed, kneeling before Justin. “Seriously,” he said, then leaned in for a kiss.

When their mouths met, they made out for a while, and Justin savored the soft caress of Clay’s lips and warm tongue. Eventually, they settled beside each other, and Justin held the boy as Clay nestled beside him.

“You still worried about Tyler?” Justin asked.

“Yeah, a bit, I guess.”

“You’ve done a lot for him. I think it’s safe to say—you’ve pretty much made up for what you think you did to him.”

“What I think I did?” Clay pressed.

“You know what I mean. I don’t think it was any of your fault, Clay.”

The boy exhaled. “Are you gonna think less of me if—I, sorta, feel bad for Monty, too?”

Justin smiled. “I’d be surprised if you didn’t.”

Clay glanced up at Justin. “Do you?”

Sighing, Justin replied, “If you’re gonna force it out of me, yeah, I guess I kinda feel bad for Monty, too. But I don’t think his dad beating him excuses what he did to Tyler.”

“No, of course it doesn’t,” Clay agreed. “A good majority of people who suffer abuse don’t inflict it upon others. But those that do…” The boy shifted beside him, squeezing Justin’s arm. “I dunno. What Monty said about—being tired of being afraid, it got to me. I mean, were you ever afraid of your mom?”

Justin began to thumb his boyfriend’s bicep. “I guess—yeah, sometimes. But not in the way Monty was scared of his dad.”

“What about—the men she dated?”

“Not usually,” Justin said. _Not until Seth_ , he almost went on, but decided not to trouble the boy with that for the night.

Clay was quiet for a moment. “I mean, I’ve been scared, I guess, of my mom or dad getting mad at me for something, but to actually be _afraid_ of them?” He shook his head into Justin’s chest. “I can’t imagine—living like that.”

Justin kissed the boy’s head. “Let’s go to sleep.”

“Yeah,” Clay agreed, then reached over to turn off the lamp. “Spoon me?” he went on as they settled under the covers.

“Of course,” Justin said, and wrapped his arms around the boy once he’d turned onto his side.


	16. Beloved

The next morning, Justin was again poked awake by another one of Clay’s infamous raging boners, and the inevitable result was another intense make-out session coupled with brisk mutual hand jobs, hushed moans, and a dual surge of come between them.

“Do you ever sleep in?” Clay asked, a lazy grin nudging his cheeks as he gazed down at Justin.

“How can I,” Justin answered, gazing back up at the boy, “when you’re always so horny in the mornings?”

His boyfriend chuckled before Justin leaned in for another kiss. When sunlight began to illuminate the room, Justin reluctantly sat up and stepped off the bed with a groan. “I guess that’s me then, huh?”

Clay grinned at him. _“You’re_ the messy one, Foley.”

“It’s okay,” Justin said, then went to grab a towel from the closet. “I don’t mind being your come-bitch, Jensen.”

The boy responded with a laugh and hurled one of the pillows across the room towards Justin.

After stepping into the shower, and as the warm water started to flow across his body, Justin realized his own boner hadn’t completely gone away. He might have to rub another one out for his erection to go away, for what was the point of a shower if he just went back to Clay and they ended up getting dirty again?

Justin decided against it, though, and tolerated his semi as he soaped, rinsed, and toweled himself off. Once dry, he dressed and stepped out of the bathroom—

To find something truly boner-killing.

Himself. His nine-year-old self standing in the middle of the hallway.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Justin gasped. Chills slammed his skin, nearly drowning him, as his heart felt like it had leapt into his throat.

“Why’d you do it?” the younger him asked. “Why do you always do it?”

Justin shook his head, and stepped around the—ghost? apparition? He took a deep breath, and tried to settle his nerves as he reached for the door to Clay’s room. He’d felt the wisps of a craving that morning, but nothing nearly as bad as when Hannah was around. What the fuck was wrong with him?

He grasped the doorknob, then turned it, stepping inside Clay’s room.

He found Clay kneeling on the floor—Justin’s gym bag pulled out from underneath the bed. _Oh no. Oh no oh no oh no oh no…_

Justin felt another wave of chills drown him as his throat collapsed. His gym bag open, the grey t-shirt holding his gear was spread out on the floor—and all evidence of his complete and utter failings as a human being were out on full display. In plain sight. In plain view.

“Clay,” was all Justin could manage.

Jensen slowly looked up at him, his eyes puffy and red as tears streamed down his face. Justin suddenly knew what dying felt like.

This was what Justin Foley did to the people he loved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued...


End file.
